


Turn the Music Up

by zenonaa



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: F/M, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-01-21 02:41:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21292280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenonaa/pseuds/zenonaa
Summary: 'When he awoke, he was in his bed still, but the notch in the table was gone. Byakuya pushed hair from his eyes and went to the bathroom to shower, and as he removed his shirt, he noticed marks on his arm by his wrist. Like scars.Three of them, to be precise.Three tally marks.'The morning after Monobear revealed their embarrassing secrets and hidden pasts, Togami wakes up back at the beginning of the same day. Over and over again. It might have something to do with Touko Fukawa.
Relationships: Fukawa Touko/Togami Byakuya
Comments: 55
Kudos: 126
Collections: Completed stories I've read, Purrsonal Picks





	1. I

The library in the mansion Byakuya Togami grew up in had been huge, spanning multiple floors all connected with steep, spiraling staircases. Maids regularly flitted in and out as they cleaned polished units housing books upon books upon books, and no dust particles were to be seen in the rays of natural light that flooded in during the daytime, or in the artificial breath of indoor lighting situated throughout the library. 

One would expect the library at a prodigious, world-class academy to rival those of Byakuya’s childhood home or at least those in the other schools he attended growing up, yet the one that Byakuya stood in right now had no windows, and the little amount of light from the ceiling lamps bleared his vision with their lack of intensity. Dust speckled the air, adding to the illusion that he was staring at old movie footage, and the dreary shades of brown that made up most of the library’s colour scheme threatened to consume the person standing opposite him.

“As long as we’re in this place, no matter what happens, I won’t let Genocider Syo kill again,” promised Touko with her hands clasped tightly in front of her, training her wide eyes on Byakuya from behind round frame glasses. “T-Thank you, Togami-kun...!”

She dropped into a bow, but not before he glimpsed the corners of her lips quivering, teasing to curl upward. He averted his eyes, setting his gaze on the hand he had resting on the library desk. In a situation like this, where everyone in his class were locked in a school by a robotic bear mascot, enticed to murder each other to escape, he shouldn’t have taken his eyes off her for even a second. But he did.

“... Leave,” he said in a low voice, no louder than the sound of a page in a book rustling.

Byakuya saw movement at the edge of his vision, and then he heard her footsteps as she retreated. The door shut behind her with a respectful click, leaving him by himself. 

Seconds crawled by. His fingers inched inward, dragging across the desk, to close his hand into a fist.

Just now, an interesting conversation had occurred. One of his opponents, Touko Fukawa, revealed to him that her body hosted an alter, and that alter was Genocider Syo. Yes. The serial killer. Touko had Dissociative Identity Disorder. She provided proof too - she showed him the scissors, the scars depicting the exact tally of victims on her thigh and a backstory that told him what picture the scattered jigsaw pieces in his hands were meant to create when they all joined together.

For many, many years, Byakuya pored over this case, determined to figure out the killer’s identity. In the end, it had been given to him in a school building caging them into a killing game by a girl with the name Touko Fukawa. 

And she had given him a timer.

It was only a matter of time before that killer inside of her came out and tried to silence him, because now he knew her secret. If anyone else in the killing game found out about it, that would put her at a disadvantage. Syo wouldn’t be able to kill anyone without suspicion falling on her. She wouldn’t be able to win the game.

Byakuya exhaled and took his heavy hand off the desk. Deciding to retire to his room earlier than first planned, his mind buzzing with too many thoughts to be able to concentrate, he returned the casefile he had been reading to the backroom - Genocider Syo’s, coincidentally - and left the library. He strode through empty corridors, descended down a silent staircase, but when he emerged into the dorm area, a grating voice blasted out of the speaker on a television screen hanging on a wall nearby.

Static distorted the image momentarily. When it cleared, Monobear’s face materialised.

“Ehhh, this is a school announcement. It will soon be Night Time,” deadpanned Monobear, like it did every night, and Byakuya shifted his weight, about to move on, but then, “Before that...”

He paused. Waited.

“... all students are required to attend a gathering at the school’s gymnasium!” 

Monobear shuddered, and as it next spoke, its voice rippled with energy. Its body flailed. 

“Emergency! Emergency!”

The screen snuffed out.

Byakuya blinked. His brow furrowed. Even though nothing remained on the black screen anymore, his gaze lingered on it for several more seconds before he changed direction. In order to enter the gymnasium, one had to cross through the trophy room. Upon arrival, he spotted some of his opponents dawdling, choosing not to go into the gymnasium yet, but he didn’t glance twice at any of them as he sauntered past. The rest of his classmates were waiting in the gymnasium, and within the next minute, those loitering outside dribbled in.

Only Monobear was missing now.

Everyone stood in silence for a while, exchanging creased looks and pallid faces as time wore on, until Kiyotaka raised a fist to his chin.

“Hmm... What does Monobear want with us this time, gathering us all in here so abruptly?” Kiyotaka pondered aloud.

A short distance away, Celes pursed her lips, standing with her fingers laced together in front of her.

“I also wonder what he’s up to,” she said. “It must be something important if it couldn’t wait until morning.”

Byakuya could have rolled his eyes at their stupidity. No one had died since Leon’s execution, which could only mean one thing. Much like the videos that Monobear gave out before, the robot had come up with another way to liven up the game and get things rolling again.

Simply put, Monobear wanted someone to commit murder.

He folded his arms over his chest. His lips twisted into a smirk. A chuckle tickled his throat. 

“It seems our captor won’t let us grow bored after all,” remarked Byakuya.

The others turned their gazes to him. Hifumi fiddled with his glasses.

“Why are you always cackling? Can’t you put up a more pleasant smile? It’s like you’re about to kidnap my grandfather and put me through a series of death games,” bemoaned Hifumi. 

That was a reference of some kind. Hifumi mopped his forehead with a handkerchief that had a cartoon character on it. 

“For example, you could wear a smile like the one a certain housewife in that popular cartoon show flashes just before the ending credits,” Hifumi added. He tucked his crumpled handkerchief back into his pocket, still looking too hot.

That had also a reference of some kind. Normally, Byakuya would have scoffed at such a response, but he regarded Hifumi with his grin maintained. The game seemed to be about to become more interesting. Aoi looked around at everyone else before fixing a glare on Byakuya.

“He shouldn’t be laughing at all in this situation. What’s up with that?” Aoi asked.

No one answered. Her fists trembled. She almost got a proper laugh out of Byakuya but as fleetingly as it came, his good mood was starting to wane, and the ends of his lips dipped.

Honestly, other than Touko, only two of his classmates earned his attention: Kyouko, who sleuthed around and dealt with corpses with familiarity, and Makoto, who lit a spark in the previous trial. An ordinary guy like him... solving a case like that... was curious. As for the rest of them, they bored Byakuya, and even those three would bore him too sooner or later like everyone and everything else. 

For once, Byakuya welcomed Monobear’s appearance, which spared him from more of their pathetic babble when it decided to finally spring out from nowhere to address them all. It stood on a podium, surveying the gymnasium with unblinking eyes, until it hung its head.

“Lately, I’ve been feeling down,” announced Monobear in a solemn tone. “My fur is thinning and losing its shine. I think it’s because of these monotonous days we’re slogging through.”

That practically confirmed Byakuya’s suspicions. He pushed up his glasses, watching Monobear as it slumped its shoulders further and heaved out a sigh.

“It’s way too boring here when no one is being killed. Therefore...” Monobear didn’t move right away. Then, it threw up its arms, suddenly energetic, and raised its voice. “... I’ve decided to treat you all to another motive!” 

Most of the class tensed like Monobear had cracked a whip at them. Byakuya’s eyebrows rose, but his expression otherwise stayed as stony as before. Nearby, Kiyotaka shoved a foot forward and raised a fist.

“I don’t know what you’re scheming, but none of us are going to kill anyone ever again!” shouted Kiyotaka. He thumped his hand against his chest. “Do your worst! We won’t bend over to you!”

Monobear snickered behind its paws.

“Wow, if I could experience human emotions, I would be scared! Alas, I can only experience bear emotions.” Its red eye glinted as it brought a paw to its ear and leaned its head toward them. “We’ll see if you’re as brave as you’re acting very soon, because today’s theme is...”

It paused its speech as it vanished behind the podium. Moments later, it jumped back into view, brandishing a fan of envelopes with a different name on each one. 

“Dadada! ‘Embarrassing memories’ and ‘secret pasts’!” crowed Monobear, and it held them higher. “Everyone has them. You, your neighbours, people you think you know everything about... They’re all things you don’t want anyone to know about. While you guys were sleeping, I read your minds, and here is what I came up with!”

Rather than hand them out, Monobear flung the envelopes onto the floor. Everyone approached hesitantly, like crossing through a minefield, and began searching for their name. Byakuya located his envelope and bent down to pick it up. He peeled it open and when he read the single sentence scribbled onto the paper slip inside of it, his breath caught in his throat. His grip buckled the bit of paper.

**‘Togami-kun cheated his way into becoming the heir of his precious conglomerate.’**

Surprised voices cropped up around him but he didn’t hear what any of them said, just the noise, as he stared down. Down at that piece of paper.

“The time limit is twenty-four hours,” announced Monobear, and when Byakuya tore his gaze away, he saw Monobear wearing a large, ugly grin. 

Its expression never changed in general, but from its voice, from its body language, they could tell if its grin was genuine. And it was. 

“If no one dies, I will tell everyone what is written down,” added Monobear, squeezing its cheeks as it squirmed with excitement. “I’ll send out letters to everyone you know. Publish them in magazines. Post them on popular message boards.”

Monobear tossed its head back and hacked up some wheezy laughter, clutching its stomach. Several pairs of eyes flitted over to Monobear’s quaking form. Makoto stared at Monobear with a frown, holding his envelope in both hands.

“Is that it?” he said in disbelief, which prompted Monobear to turn to him. It cocked its head to one side.

“Ain’t I a stinker?” asked Monobear. Makoto narrowed his eyes, darkening his face.

“I mean, it’s embarrassing, but it wouldn’t make me kill anyone,” he told Monobear.

It wiggled happily for a few more seconds until it realised what he had said. Then Monobear flinched.

“Eh?” went Monobear. Kiyotaka nodded fervently. 

“Naegi-kun is right. It’s no problem at all. No one would kill because of a reason like this,” he informed it, waving his envelope.

Excitement seeped out of Monobear like air escaping a balloon as it slowly deflated.

“Wow, that’s so mean... I really thought I had something there,” it said. “Memories connect you to the outside world, and I thought you wouldn’t want anyone to find out. I put all my EXP toward learning to mindread and everything. I neglected my social life, and my wife divorced me and took the kids too, and for what?”

No one humoured it with an answer. Monobear turned away from them with its head bowed.

“Oh well,” it said, holding its paws behind its back. “In twenty-four hours, we’ll have circle time and share everyone’s secrets. That might cheer me up. Until then... Bye...”

And with that, Monobear hopped off the podium and shuffled away. No one said anything for a while. Most of the class returned their attention to their envelopes. Others looked around shiftily. Aoi scratched her chin, brow creased, her other hand grasping her envelope.

“You know, I was scared at first, but I think we’ve been let off easy this time,” she said, her lips quivering as they tried but failed to form a smile. “Naegi’s right... It’s embarrassing, but I won’t kill anyone over something like this.”

Byakuya was inclined to agree. People finding out what was written on his envelope would annoy him and be an invasion of his privacy, but them knowing wouldn’t change anything. After all, throughout the heir selection process, he had proven his worth to the conglomerate, and he continued to ever since then. 

No, what got Byakuya was how Monobear knew about that. Monobear couldn’t have read his mind. That was impossible. Instead, it implied something more sinister. It knowing something like that required infiltrating the conglomerate. Someone betraying him. That got him. 

Kiyotaka cleared his throat.

“In that case,” Kiyotaka put his hands on his hips, chin held high, “let’s just tell everyone what is written down right now. Then we don’t have to worry. I’ll start. My grandf-”

“I d-don’t want to hear anything embarrassing about you!” Touko snarled.

Her voice ripped through the air. Kiyotaka twitched and choked on his breath. Everyone wheeled around toward her. Touko stared forward, body shaking. Of course she was shaking. Byakuya knew what had to be in her envelope.

“Besides, I refuse. I don’t want to talk about mine!” she hissed. “Even if you try to force me to... I won’t say it!”

Celes bobbed her head in agreement.

“I agree,” she chimed in. “As much as I want to, I simply cannot.”

A chorus of voices rippled throughout the group as the class neared a consensus. Byakuya didn’t contribute, in thought. All he could hear in his head was a ticking. The ticking of a timer.

Now would be the perfect time to tell everyone about Genocider Syo. They were all here. Right now. He could tell everyone. Right now. Before she killed him.

So he did.

“Hold on,” he said, elevating a hand. “I have something to share with you all.”

Everyone turned to him. His features hardened.

“Earlier, Fukawa told me something. She told me... that she is Genocider Syo!”

He pointed at her. Everyone spun around to face her. Touko squawked, jumping back, and nearly dropped her envelope. She fumbled with it before hugging it to her chest Then, one by one, the rest of the class returned their gazes to Byakuya.

“Fukawa?” Mondo said with a hard squint. He jogged his thumb toward her. “That girl?”

“Fukawa-chan can’t even stand blood,” scoffed Aoi. “She fainted when Enoshima-chan died, and she couldn’t look at Maizono-chan’s body either. How could she kill a bunch of people?”

Kiyotaka jerked his fist at him. 

“That’s a ridiculous claim!” Kiyotaka concurred. Byakuya jutted out his chin, keeping his finger pointed at Touko.

“Read her secret. That will prove me right,” he said.

Touko shifted a foot back. However, no one stepped toward her. No one even looked at her. Makoto’s brow furrowed.

“That wouldn’t be fair on Fukawa-san,” he said. “Anyway, I don’t think that even makes sense.”

Celes placed a hand lightly over her lips, barely masking her amusement.

“That is because it doesn’t make sense,” she said. She looked off to the side and now did a better job at smoothing out her features. “To me, it sounds like Togami-kun simply wants to embarrass Fukawa-san. What will happen is she will reveal her envelope and it will say something else, but she will be humiliated. How needlessly cruel... but also unsurprising.”

Byakuya shook his head. He jabbed the air, making Touko wince. “She told me. She told me this!”

“I...” Touko gripped herself harder, caving in on herself. Her voice escaped her lips as a pathetic wisp, but it won the attention of the others, who craned their necks to peer at her. She hunched her shoulders. “... I d-didn’t...”

Aoi set a hand on her shoulder. “We know you didn’t. Togami’s just being a jerk to you. I don’t want to show mine either.”

“Me too,” piped up Chihiro. “I’m... I’m not strong enough yet...”

Kiyotaka bit his lip. Mondo tilted his head to one side.

“No one’s going to budge, Kyoudai. For now, we have to leave off it,” said Mondo.

“I guess...” Kiyotaka tried for a smile. Didn’t really succeed. It seemed ready to slip off at any moment. “We can talk about it tomorrow. I mean, no one is going to kill anyone over it, right...?”

That was the general consensus. Soon after, the group dispersed. While the others headed to the dorm area, Byakuya decided to go back to the library and read some more. After this new development, he didn’t feel ready to sleep. His mind was too busy, hard at work. Besides, he had to compile proof of what Touko said to him. With the new motive, Syo had more reason than ever to silence him before the time limit expired.

Once he arrived at the library, he made a beeline to the backroom, searching for the casefile again. He didn’t take long to find it - he found the casefile where he left it earlier. Like the main section of the library, the lighting in this room was poor too, and he could barely make out the text printed onto the front of the casefile. 

As he adjusted the angle of it, the font glimpsed more legible, and something sharp pierced the back of his neck.

Pain exploded through his body like blood splattering. Byakuya let out a howl and stumbled forward, falling over some boxes and hurtling to the ground. He hit his chin on the edge of a shelf on the way down.

Above him, wide eyes behind round frame glasses stared down at him.

Touko.

No. She didn’t smile like that. Her tongue didn’t hang out of her mouth like that. 

“I’ll scissor later!” she said, and she sounded like Touko, but she also didn’t, gruffer. Smirking. “Get it? Scissor? See ya? Because I stabbed you with my scissors!”

She flourished the silhouette of a pair of scissors. Black spots began to blot his vision. His muscles spasmed. He was helpless. Pain seared hot. Unbearably hot.

“My heart’s hurting real bad,” she said, sounding further away than she really was. She flicked her tongue. “You must have hurt Gloomy... and if you do that, I get so turned on!”

Her laughter shook his body. His whole vision faded to black, and his body didn’t weigh anything anymore.

* * *

Byakuya jolted awake. Darkness cloaked him and he tried to sit up, but his whole body refused to cooperate and tensed, rigid, like an invisible hand curled into a fist around him. All he could move were his eyes like flies trapped in a glass jar until finally his body thawed. 

Then he sat up, aching all over, and hearing a familiar creak, he realised he was in his bed and not in the backroom at the library. Heart racing, he heaved himself to his feet. He staggered over to the light switch, turned it on, and felt his back before bringing his hand in front of him.

No blood. 

All that must have been a dream. Yes. Byakuya had been reading a lot of casefiles, after all, especially that one about Genocider Syo, and it came together to make that mess of a dream. Obviously. Even if he couldn’t remember going to bed yesterday. That could be explained. He must have been too tired and forgotten what happened. Of course.

His hand closed into a fist.

Though Byakuya avoided the others at mealtimes, after what transpired last night with the motive, he had to admit he was curious how they coped... or more specifically, if they coped. Surely someone had a big enough secret that would drive them to kill. 

For example, Touko did. 

When Byakuya walked into the cafeteria, Kiyotaka and Mondo had their arms draped over each other’s shoulders, and they belted out laughter while their peers watched with wrinkled brows.

It seemed they had all got over their unease last night. Byakuya didn’t know what had caused those two to go from butting heads to palling around at some point, but at the same time, he didn’t care, and he walked toward the door to the kitchen.

“Male friendship is indeed different than female,” remarked Sakura. Sat next to her, Aoi released a sigh and faced her palms toward the ceiling.

“You can say that again,” replied Aoi. She looked away from Mondo and Kiyotaka and caught sight of Byakuya, who by this point had almost made it the whole way across the cafeteria. Her tone sharpened. “Togami? What are you doing here?”

He opened the kitchen door and glanced over his shoulder at her. “I’m being held hostage here too. Do you remember?”

Aoi glowered.

“What about all that mean stuff you said about us poisoning your food?” she asked him.

“‘Mean’? Is that what you call it?” he retorted. He adjusted his glasses. “It’s called common sense. If you want to survive, you should try using some. Instead of playing friends, you should stay on your guard.”

“Ignore him,” said Mondo with a scowl, having since seated himself at a table with Kiyotaka. “He’s just trying to mess your head up.”

Aoi placed her hands either side of her head, like he meant it literally. At another table, Celes smirked, cradling a cup of tea.

“It seems the unkillable Togami-kun still needs to eat. If his food has been poisoned, I’m intrigued to see what will happen next,” Celes said, and though she talked about him, not to him, she watched him closely.

Byakuya refused to dignify her quip with a response and entered the kitchen. Metal worktops occupied the centre of the room, with bronze and silver pots and pans hanging overhead on ceiling units. To his right, boxes of various vegetables sat about, all out in the open so one could just pluck one out and help themselves. On the other side of the room, ingredients rested on shelves within a glass case, and nearby, a set of knives were pinned up on a wall, with different sizes for different uses, presumably.

The kitchen offered a range of options, but Byakuya prepared himself a bowl of cereal, unable to do much else. Normally, he would have a chef prepare his meals. Sometimes, in the morning, he would eat a French breakfast, and other times Japanese or Polish... but here, he didn’t have that choice, so cornflakes would suffice for the time being.

Of course, if he really wanted to, he could have taught himself to prepare more complex meals. In fact, he would do that today. When he finished eating by himself, he left his bowl by the kitchen sink and withdrew to the library. 

Sticking to what he told himself, he browsed for a cookbook. Prior research into the school informed him that a Super High School Level Cook enrolled at the academy the year before, and the library would be the appropriate place to keep any cookbooks. Sure enough, he soon stumbled upon the section with them, mixed in with books on poisons. He plucked one cookbook off the shelf and sat down with it. 

Today, he was in the mood for Beef Bourguignon. Once he found a recipe for it, he skimmed through it, and deeming it to his tastes, he grabbed some paper and a pen from the backroom and began making notes on what he would need. After he did that, he made a note of the page number and read through the rest of the cookbook for other ideas for meals. 

It was as he had once said. Someone could poison their meals, so for his own sake, he needed to learn to prepare his own food. Not only that, but he needed to brush up on poisons and how to test for them.

The door creaked open. He didn’t look up, continuing to read a recipe for steamed mussels and white wine. By now, they should have realised he wanted nothing to do with them, yet just yesterday, Makoto had come here with Touko to bother him and now they were bothering him again. It had even been around this time when those two had wandered in, and Touko had come out with some nonsense about how she imagined him telling her to be controlled by a strong man.

“Um... Togami-kun?” said Makoto.

Great. That guy was talking to him. No, not great. Wrong word. _Annoying. _It seemed he hadn’t learned his lesson. Byakuya lifted his gaze, firing a glare at him, and noticed Touko hovering nearby in the background. 

His jaw clenched. She stared at him, her mouth hanging open and a line of drool streaking her chin as she gripped the edge of a bookcase across the room. Their eyes met briefly, and as they crossed paths, his insides gave a quiver while she continued to shamelessly ogle him.

That had even been the same unit she had chosen to lurk behind yesterday. Byakuya jerked back his head.

“Are you serious?” he snapped. “Do you like the sound of my voice? I told you yesterday to leave me alone. You’re eyesores, the pair of you.”

Makoto cringed, but Touko drew forward, having been acknowledged even a slight amount and undeterred by his harsh tone. As she approached from out of the shadows, more of her details fleshed out. Her pale grey eyes, slim face, the purple tint under her eyes and the mole on her chin all bloomed into view. Byakuya watched her warily. To think this girl killed him in his imagination... this girl who stuttered, who never stood straight and whenever she made eye contact with anyone, looked ready to vomit.

She stopped a short distance away and swallowed, trembling faintly.

“Togami-kun...” Touko trailed off with a distant look on her face. He didn’t answer, but that didn’t discourage her. A smile tweaked her lips and she picked harder at her fingers. “Do you remember those words you said to me? ‘You should become a woman who doesn’t control weak men but is controlled by a strong man’...”

Byakuya gritted his teeth and struck his book against the desk. It only hit with a dull thud, but the other two recoiled.

“Do you take me for an idiot? You already tried this yesterday,” said Byakuya, heat rising to his face.

Touko blinked. “Eh?” 

He let go of the book and jerked his hand, holding it aloft.

“It was literally yesterday you got Naegi to come in here with you to annoy me, and I told you then that I never said that. You even admitted to me that I never said that, and that you thought it was something I wanted to say,” said Byakuya.

His eyes bore into her. She stared back at him.

“What are you talking about?” asked Makoto, equally confused. “We didn’t come here together yesterday.”

“Is this a joke? You did. You both did,” said Byakuya. Makoto gestured to himself.

“Me? I think you’re the one that’s joking. I’m telling you, we didn’t. Not together,” Makoto said.

But they had. They had. They had to have had. He could remember it happening, yet he couldn’t spot any signs of a grin being fought down, or any telltale twinkles in their eyes. Their faces were painfully stupid but at the same time painfully honest.

He realised he was shaking slightly and stood up.

“Get out,” Byakuya said in a curt tone without raising his voice, and without looking at either of them in the eyes. “My patience has worn thin. And you... Fukawa. Go take a shower. You reek.”

She clasped her hands together.

“I-If that’s what you want, you only have to say,” she told him. Byakuya waved a hand at her like swatting a fly. 

“I did. Yesterday. Now get out of my sight!” He thrust his finger toward the door. “The whole room stinks of your stench. It’s making me nauseous.”

Touko yelped, slapping her hands over her mouth, but did as he asked, shuffling away with Makoto following her out shortly after. When the door closed, Byakuya raked his fingers through his hair, his other hand supporting his weight as he pressed it down on the desk. A few seconds later, he sank back onto his chair, and he thought. He thought a lot.

Maybe his dream hadn’t been as similar to what just happened as he thought. Maybe he misremembered the dream, and after this happened in real life, what he thought he remembered from the dream were gaps that he filled in later with this experience. Otherwise, he dreamed something that ended up happening, which wasn’t impossible. Just unlikely.

Still, he couldn’t shake off the sense of uneasiness that coated his skin in a prickling film.

To his relief, no one bothered him for the rest of the day. After dinner, again eaten by himself and consisting of a simple salad and cold cuts, he went back to the library and settled down with Genocider Syo’s casefile, much like the night before.

Because the library didn’t have any windows, as time wore on, the lighting remained unhelpful in informing him how late it was. However, the night time announcement hadn’t sounded when a crawling sensation crept under his skin.

Someone was watching him. He looked up and saw Touko hiding behind a bookcase with only part of her head poking out. The sight tripped him up for a moment. In his dream, she had been lurking there. A coincidence. Even so, he kept his guard up, not taking his eyes off her.

“Oi,” he said. She jumped, like her puppeteer pulled her strings taut. “I know you’re there. Get out.”

Touko slipped out from behind the bookcase, but instead of leaving, she approached him. Her feet dragged across the floor. Messy hair restrained in braids framed her pale face, which housed light eyes that didn’t quite meet his gaze. The awful lighting painted shadows like bruises on her and tinted her skin in its subdued shades. She wrung her hands together, biting down on her lip, and as she stationed herself the centre of his vision, he realised he had witnessed this very sight before, in his dream.

Byakuya sat up straighter. Touko forced herself to meet his unrelenting gaze and trembled, but she didn’t crumble away.

“Togami-kun... can I ask you something?” she said, her voice barely carrying over the short distance between them.

He leaned back in his seat. Eyed her.

“What is it?” he asked. Touko folded her arms into her sides.

“You know Genocider Syo?” she said.

Her words chimed in his ears. He stiffened. This was just like his dream.

“The others wondered if that murderer... that monster... was in the school,” she told him, hunching her shoulders, wringing her hands together.

So was that. She had said those exact words in it too. He gulped. Steadied himself.

“So?” he said quietly. “What’s your point?”

“That person... They’re in the school right now. I know this for a fact,” she said.

No.

“It’s true,” she said, even though he hadn’t said anything. She squared her shoulders. “It’s because...”

And like in the dream, she pointed at herself, and she said, 

“... because she’s inside of me.”

Byakuya gaped at her. She must have taken his silence as disbelief because she began explaining herself, like she needed to. Like she hadn’t said this in his dream, word-for-word.

“We share a body. She was created when I was younger... created from an accumulation of abuse and pressure...”

Everything she said...

“... Each day I fear she will come out and strike again. And that... that she will kill again, and in this awful place...”

... she already told him...

“I don’t want to die. But most importantly... I don’t want her to kill you!”

... in his dream.

Touko stared at him. Byakuya stared back. His mouth turned dry. She went on to show him the scars on her left thigh and her holster of scissors on her right. Like in the dream. He tore his eyes away from her scars. Sought her gaze.

“Where do I come into all this?” he asked, straining his tone so it came out hushed, controlled. Like he wasn’t unnerved. Its gravellness buried his waver.

“With your help, I can try to keep her inside. If I can’t abolish her, I can at least stop her. If I can... be with you... I can stop her,” she said. “You can give me the strength to stop her. I just need you to promise me you won’t tell... and that you’ll help me.”

Byakuya pushed up his glasses and with his heart beating faster, he turned his head away. Really, now that she had told him, neither had any choice. Touko couldn’t take back what she said, and he couldn’t wipe away from his memory what he had heard. They were in a house of cards, leaning on the other, and if one were to fall, so would the other. Her secret would be exposed. He would have to be silenced.

He lowered his hand from his glasses.

“All right,” he said, and he turned back to her. “I promise.”

The corners of her lips quivered, teasing to curl upward. Byakuya looked down, setting his eyes on the hand he had resting on the library desk.

“As long as we’re in this place, no matter what happens, I won’t let Genocider Syo kill again,” Touko gushed. “T-Thank you, Togami-kun...!”

His eyes narrowed.

“... Leave,” he said.

A beat passed, and then he heard her footsteps as she retreated. The door shut behind her with a respectful click, leaving him by himself. 

Byakuya planted both of his hands against the desk. Thoughts whirled around in his head, but he couldn’t focus on any of them. They combined to fill him with noise. Was he dreaming again? He had to be dreaming again. And this time, it was lucid.

Therefore, if he waited long enough, then...

The television screen positioned on the wall began to hiss with static, and sure enough, Monobear’s face appeared on it.

“Ehhh, this is a school announcement. It will soon be Night Time,” deadpanned Monobear, right on time. “Before that... all students are required to attend a gathering at the school’s gymnasium.”

Monobear sprung to life and thrashed its arms around. Even its wild movements were the same as in Byakuya’s dream.

“Emergency! Emergency!” it shouted.

And then the screen snuffed out.

Byakuya peeled his palms off the desk. His pace didn’t falter as he took wide strides, as he left the library, as he walked through different corridors, and he only stopped when he arrived in front of the podium where Monobear would appear. The others spilled into the gymnasium behind him. He didn’t look away from the podium.

For a while, everyone stood in silence, until Kiyotaka raised a fist to his chin.

“Hmm... What does Monobear want with us this time, gathering us all in here so abruptly?” said Kiyotaka.

A short distance away, Celes pursed her lips, standing with her fingers laced together in front of her. “I also wonder what he’s up to. It must be something important if it couldn’t wait until morning.”

Unlike last time, Byakuya didn’t say anything, watching the podium while the others talked amongst themselves. Monobear soon emerged from behind the podium, and it regarded them with its shiny, lifeless eyes.

“It’s way too boring here when no one is being killed. Therefore... I’ve decided to treat you all to another motive!” Monobear declared, arms raised up high as it recited the exact same speech as before.

Kiyotaka shunted a foot forward. Anger twisted his features into the same shape as last time.

“I don’t know what you’re scheming, but none of us are going to kill anyone ever again!” He pounded his hand against his chest. “Do your worst! We won’t bend over to you!”

Monobear tilted its head to one side.

“Wow, if I could experience human emotions, I would be scared!” Monobear remarked. “Alas, I can only experience bear emotions. We’ll see if you’re as brave as you’re acting very soon, because today’s theme is...”

It reached behind its back, and moments later, it revealed its paw, brandishing the envelopes that contained their hidden secrets.

“... ‘Embarrassing memories’ and ‘secret pasts’!” Monobear announced with glee, waving them about like an owner trying to get their dog to perform a trick. “Everyone has them. You, your neighbours... people you think you know everything about... They’re all things you don’t want anyone to know about. While you guys were sleeping, I read your minds, and here is what I came up with!”

Monobear tossed out the envelopes, and everyone wandered over to get theirs. Byakuya glanced over his envelope, turning to Touko, who was still searching for hers on her hands and knees. If he showed everyone her envelope said she was Genocider Syo, they wouldn’t be able to brush it aside like last time. 

Even though this was only a dream so it had no actual real life consequences, he would know what happened and that was enough for him. He needed to do things right, so he looked around and when he spotted hers, he pounced.

“H-Hey! That’s mine!” Touko shouted as he picked it up.

Ignoring her, he straightened up and started to open it. Touko threw herself at him and clawed at his hands. He gritted his teeth and shoved her off with his shoulder, but by this point, Sakura had closed in on him. She snatched the envelope from Byakuya and glared down at him.

“Togami, you cretin,” Sakura growled. “How dare you assault Fukawa like that! Have you no shame?”

Touko whimpered behind Sakura, cradling her right hand. Mondo grabbed Byakuya’s shirt and hoisted him closer so they were face to face. Noses almost touching. Byakuya could feel the heat radiating off Mondo’s face. Almost taste his sweat.

“Are you out of your mind?” cried Makoto, scrambling up to them, but he wasn’t talking to both of them. He stared at Byakuya. “Togami-kun, what the hell is your problem?”

Sakura held the envelope too high for Byakuya to reach, and even in a dream, Byakuya didn’t fancy his chances against Sakura Oogami and Mondo Oowada. He tried willing Sakura to give it to him, but she remained resolute. She didn’t so much as quiver.

“That girl, she told me minutes ago that she was Genocider Syo,” said Byakuya, pointing at the person in question, and Touko shrieked, throwing up her arms in front of her defensively. “She told me she lives in fear of the serial killer inside of her, who may kill again.”

Blinks scattered across the faces gawking at them.

“Geno-what now?” said Hifumi, on the verge of biting his knuckles.

“Genocider Syo,” Celes corrected grimly. She looked into space like there was a camera there. “We talked about her earlier, by the way.”

Chihiro squeezed their hands together.

“You mean the serial killer? B-But...” Chihiro shuddered and hunched their shoulders. “... Fukawa-san can’t even stand the sight of blood. How can she be that murderer?”

“It’s... It’s not true,” said Touko, trembling. “My... My envelope... contains a humiliating secret... that if anyone knew, I would drop dead...”

Everyone’s eyes flitted about, flickering between Byakuya and Touko. Between a cruel man who seemed to revel in a game that encouraged murder and where one had to kill to escape, who boasted how he would be the one to survive to the end and didn’t care about hurting the feelings of the likes of Chihiro and Touko or anyone else, unfiltered and cold, and a woman who stuttered and fidgeted and stared at them all like a wild animal caught in the beam of headlights in the middle of the night. Unfiltered, cold as well, with a persecution complex.

Makoto fixed his eyes on Byakuya.

“Togami-kun... you really are too cruel,” said Makoto on behalf of the class. 

“Barbarian!” Hifumi sneered, balling his hands into fists. “Harming women is unacceptable! My hair is going to turn yellow at any moment.”

Byakuya breathed loudly. His nails dug into his fists.

“We should tie him up,” said Mondo. He stretched out his arm, holding Byakuya further away from him. “I don’t trust that bastard to leave our sight, even for a second.”

“After such behaviour, I think that may be for the best,” said Sakura. She turned her back on Byakuya. “Come, Fukawa. I will walk you to your dorm.”

And so the rest of the class separated, but not before slinging scathing looks at Byakuya on their way out. The only one who didn’t was Celes, who flashed him an amused grin before quickening her pace. Mondo hardened his hold on Byakuya.

“Oi, Hagakure,” barked Mondo. “Grab me some rope and take it to my room.”

Yasuhiro stopped walking and swiveled around.

“Can do!” said Yasuhiro with a salute.

Mondo dragged Byakuya to his own dorm, not letting go even as they waited inside. Soon, Yasuhiro arrived, and the duo tied Byakuya to a chair. Yasuhiro offered a wave before leaving them alone. When the door closed, Mondo put his hands on his hips, but only for a few seconds. Then he sat on the bed and took off one of his white loafers. Byakuya glowered.

“You fool,” said Byakuya. “You don’t - ”

Before he could finish, Mondo stuffed a sock into Byakuya’s mouth.

“That’s ‘cause I can’t stand the sound of your voice,” said Mondo.

Byakuya gagged and tried spitting it out, but that just prompted Mondo to push it back in so he stopped. Mondo grinned.

“That’s better,” he said.

The ropes restricted all of Byakuya’s movements, so Byakuya could only sit still and survey his surroundings. Large flags with golden text about the Crazy Diamonds decorated the room, one against the bed, another across the desk and three hanging from the ceiling in the walkway. He cast them no more than a cursory glance, uninterested in learning anything about the gang Mondo belonged to. Nor did he care about the gritty manga spread out on the bed or the hair products across the room.

Mondo strayed from him only to lock the door, and then he sat back down on his bed. He grabbed a manga, crossed one leg over the other and started reading in silence. Byakuya tried to shimmy. The ropes didn’t slacken.

For a while, only the rustle of a page turning and the occasional cough broke the silence, until they heard a knock on the door. Mondo set down his manga and got to his feet, crossing the room with large strides. He disappeared from sight as he reached the door, but Byakuya heard Mondo open it.

“Fukawa?” said Mondo. “What are...?”

Mondo cried out in pain, and Byakuya tensed, hearing a loud thump as Mondo stumbled into a wall and collapsed. Byakuya widened his eyes and tried breaking out of his restraints. Seconds later, he saw the braids. He saw the glasses. The sailor fuku. But he also saw the tongue, the scissors and the light dancing in her eyes as she turned to him, standing across the room from him.

“Here’s Johnny!” Syo called out.

Byakuya couldn’t move. With a grin, she raised her scissors, and Byakuya could do nothing as she pumped him full of metal.

* * *

He woke up in his bed, paralysed. At first, he thought he was still tied up, but when he could move again, he thrashed and discovered he was entangled in his bed sheets, not ropes. His heart burned and when he finally laid his hand over his chest, it felt wet. Barely able to breathe, Byakuya staggered to the bathroom and tore off his shirt, staring at his chest in the mirror. 

No blood. No wound. No incision. Just sweat. A lot of sweat. He left his room.

In the cafeteria, a familiar scene greeted him.

“Male friendship is indeed different than female,” remarked Sakura as she stared at Mondo and Kiyotaka. 

Mondo was very much not dead. On the contrary, he laughed loudly, pressing hips with Kiyotaka.

Aoi heaved a sigh, resting her chin in her hand. “You can say that again.”

Without being noticed, Byakuya returned to his room and started pacing. He carved a mark onto the table then paced some more.

This time, he didn’t push it when he tried telling everyone about Genocider Syo, but rather than go to the library, he watched Touko slink into her room before retiring to his one, and for the rest of the night, he stayed there, even when he heard his doorbell fitting. He tried to stay awake, sitting on the edge of his bed, but weariness still overcame him and he passed out.

When he awoke, he was in his bed still, but the notch in the table was gone. Byakuya pushed hair from his eyes and went to the bathroom to shower, and as he removed his shirt, he noticed marks on his arm by his wrist. Like scars.

Three of them, to be precise.

Three tally marks.


	2. II

Upon reflection, Byakuya accepted when he had tried to physically show Touko’s envelope to everyone, he had been too forceful, and the fact that he resorted to violence sickened him. He also accepted that maybe, just maybe, those hadn’t been dreams he experienced. What they were, though, he didn’t know yet. In two of them, he had died only to be startled awake, alive, in his bed. The notches in his desk vanished. No one else seemed to remember what he remembered happening.

After his last death, he thought it wise not to prompt the others to restrain him so he would get killed by Genocider Syo. Sure, he could have told them this would happen, but they hadn’t believed Touko and Syo shared the same body. To tell them that Syo would kill him... no one would believe that either, and he didn’t know if that would put Syo off. He also didn’t know how long this would go on for, so trial and error was too risky.

Therefore, as he sat in the library, reading a cookbook, he decided he would reveal her existence but not push it. In the meantime, he had a whole day to get through. To his displeasure, the notes he made while researching different meals no longer existed. Fortunately, he could remember some of them, and it didn’t take him long to locate most of the books he had gathered up.

A while later, the door opened, and glancing at his pocket watch, he grimaced. They were right on time. Touko stayed back and watched him from afar, and after some hissed commands from her, Makoto crept closer. And closer. Ever so slowly.

“Oi, you,” said Byakuya with his eyes on his book. He heard Makoto take a sharp intake of breath. “You’ve been loitering around here for a while. You’re an eyesore.”

“Ah, so you noticed, huh?” came Makoto’s embarrassed reply.

Byakuya rolled his eyes. “Obviously. Now get out of here. You as well, over in the corner.”

He pointed at Touko with the hand still grasping his pocket watch. Touko jumped but did as he instructed, shuffling her feet as she emerged. His eyes followed her closely.

“Togami-kun...” she started, but Byakuya shut his book before raising his hand, palm toward her. She faltered.

The first time he experienced this day, he told them both to get out and for Touko to take a shower.

“Does this conversation require Naegi’s presence?” he asked.

She blinked.

“No...?”

Byakuya turned to Makoto and shooed at him with his hand.

“Then away with you,” said Byakuya. Makoto quirked his brow and moved his head back.

“You h-heard him! Leave us alone, you... you voyeurist!” Touko growled, her fingers clawed.

Though Makoto’s jaw tensed, he didn’t say anything and headed for the door. Byakuya put away his pocket watch and returned his gaze to Touko. She watched the door shut before turning back to Byakuya. Her sneer melted into a smile as she fixed her eyes on him.

“Do you remember those words you said to me?” she asked him. “‘You should become a woman who doesn’t control weak men but is controlled by a strong man...’”

“I never said that,” Byakuya said coldly. 

Before she could say anything else, he steepled his hands.

“Why, exactly, are you here?” he asked.

The person in front of him was in the body of the person who had killed him twice so far. Some people would have thought that reason to avoid someone, but for him, that just made him more curious. He wondered if she had always meant to come here to tell him about Syo originally, but then why invite Makoto? Unless she intended to send him away like Byakuya had done?

“Are you learning to cook?” she instead said, having seen the cover of the book he had been reading.

Byakuya hesitated, caught off guard, but he quickly comprehended what she asked of him and adjusted his glasses.

“Don’t think it’s because of a lack of ability on my part,” he said. “Prior to our imprisonment here, I never needed to prepare my own meals. I had chefs to do that for me. Here, though...”

He trailed off.

“... you don’t,” she finished for him. She glanced away and placed her fist against her mouth. “If you’re worried about your food being poisoned, t-then it’s not a surprise you want to learn to make it yourself.”

Even though he didn’t reply, that didn’t stop her from continuing the conversation.

“I can cook, but not anything fancy,” she said, keeping her hand hovering by her lips. Her other hand scrunched her skirt. “I had to teach myself. My parents didn’t always make me anything, and if I misbehaved, they wouldn’t give me food to eat, so I had to improvise with what we had in the kitchen cupboards... which was often not a lot. And a good amount of that stuff wasn’t safe to consume...”

Byakuya stared at her, stony-faced. She lowered her hand slightly from her mouth and pushed out a grin. It wasn’t bright enough to reach her eyes.

“P-Perhaps we could learn together?” she suggested, and she brought her hands together in front of her, squeezing them. “What you said about the others poisoning each other was the smartest thing I’ve heard since I arrived here.”

She hadn’t touched him, but he could feel a phantom hand glide up his neck. Cup his cheek. Press the underside of his chin. It was cold. Uncomfortable. He bared his teeth. 

“No. If you want to be helpful, you’ll go take a shower,” he snapped. He turned his head away with a jerk. “You’re stinking up the whole room.”

A yelp popped out of her, shaking her body. His eyes narrowed.

“Leave,” he said, keeping his head angled away from her, but he peered at her sidelong. 

Touko lowered her arms and hanging her head, she left, dragging her feet. She closed the door behind herself. He exhaled.

The rest of the day progressed much like the previous... whatever it was. Byakuya couldn’t call it a ‘day’ because it never happened, apparently. If he had to call it something, he would call it a timeline. A cycle. A loop. Touko came in a bit before night time, told him about Syo and when they received their envelopes, Byakuya told everyone about what she said.

No one believed him, of course. When he had pushed her over in the second loop, he had noticed she wasn’t wearing her holster of scissors. She must have taken it off before going to the gymnasium, so he couldn’t use that as proof either.

This time, instead of going to the library to be murdered, he stayed in his room. As long as he didn’t open the door, Syo wouldn’t be able to get to him and he would remain safe. So he sat on his bed and waited for the night to end. For the next day to begin.

His eyes grew heavy. Try as he did, he drifted into unconsciousness.

* * *

And woke up with a fourth mark on his wrist.

* * *

“Male friendship is indeed different than female,” remarked Sakura, sitting next to Aoi in the cafeteria. Mondo and Kiyotaka paid her no mind, continuing to bump shoulders with stupid grins on their faces.

“You can say that again,” replied Aoi. She caught sight of Byakuya, who stood in the doorway to the cafeteria. Her eyes glinted. “Hey, what are you doing here? Aren’t you apparently too good for us?”

Byakuya glared.

“I was hoping you would have stopped lollygagging by now,” he stated. “Goodbye.”

He raised his chin haughtily and strode off without getting any food, ignoring the tsks that hissed behind him. Initially, his stride was brisk, but down the next corridor, he slowed his pace to a standstill and pulled up his sleeve to bring the marks on his wrist into view.

They were faint pink and seemed to indicate how many loops of this day he had been through. Four marks for four loops. Byakuya fixed his sleeve and continued on. In the library, he seated himself at one of its desks. With a frown, he dragged up his sleeve again and studied the tally marks on his wrist, slowly rotating his arm as he inspected them.

Going by the first two cycles, if he died, the day would restart, yet the other two times, he hadn’t died. He had stowed himself away in his dorm and then passed out, and the day still reverted. 

Makoto and Touko weren’t due to arrive for another hour, so while he waited, he started a detective novel he hadn’t yet read. By the time Touko and Makoto slunk into the library, he had grown bored of the book. It rested by his elbow, full of stock characters and meandering descriptions that went on for pages. Byakuya didn’t call them out right away, and when he did, as before, he sent Makoto on his way while requesting Touko’s presence.

Temporarily.

“Fukawa, give your life fleeting meaning and bring me some luwak coffee,” he instructed. “Drip brew only.”

She twitched and nodded. “R-Right away!”

Then she darted out of the room.

While she was gone, Byakuya rose off his seat. He didn’t search for a detective novel or a cookbook, or even get Syo’s casefile from the backroom. Instead, he wandered over to the science fiction section. The library contained only one unit dedicated to the genre, and with his lips pursed, he proceeded to check each one for a plot to do with time travel. 

When he was most of the way through his search with no success, he heard the door click, but he paid it little attention. A scrape told him that Touko had put a saucer down and footsteps informed him that she had padded over to him.

“Are you interested in science fiction? I would have thought you would be looking in the detective section,” she remarked.

“I’m not a big fan of science fiction,” he replied, skimming through the titles printed onto different book spines. 

None stood out to him. He couldn’t tell her he was stuck repeating this day over and over again, so he turned to her and told another truth.

“The breadth of my reading far exceeds most readers, let alone the usual plebeian. Therefore... I’ve decided to expand my mental library even further while I’m here.”

She nodded.

“I-If you want a recommendation, I can give you a few,” she piped up. “If you want a splash of horror, there’s Parasite Eve by Hideaki Sena, who at the time was a graduate student and now has a Ph.D. in pharmacology. It’s about a doctor who in his grief tries to bring his dead wife back to life by transplanting her kidney into a young girl. It’s very technical in places... and not for the squeamish...”

“Oh?” he went, raising his eyebrows. He folded his arms over his chest. “That doesn’t sound like one of your mainstream romance novels.”

Touko shot up onto tiptoe and wagged a finger. “J-Just because I specialise in romance, that doesn’t mean I only read those kinds of books. I try to keep my mental library diverse... like you.”

Byakuya cocked his head to one side, not taking his eyes off her.

“I will admit,” he walked back to one of the desks and leaned backward against it, “you possess great literary ability. As much as the idea of reading one of your romances makes my skin crawl, I did read a few of them before I enrolled here.”

She widened her eyes. “You did?”

“I like to read. I was curious.” He shrugged. “You have already built up a respectable reputation. Your novels are constantly on the bestsellers lists, you’ve won multiple awards despite being in high school and your writing has been known to even set trends. Fishermen, butlers... those groups of people surged in popularity after you published novels featuring them as love interests. If you didn’t waste your ability on frivolous romances, you could accomplish even greater things...”

The upturned ends of her lips wilted.

“F-Frivolous?” Touko blurted. Byakuya jogged up his glasses indifferently.

“Anyway, let’s go back to your previous offer to recommend me something,” he said while Touko’s lips contorted in indignance. His face remained smooth. “Tell me.... do you know any novels with time loops?”

Touko hesitated, taking a few moments to extract herself from the last things he had said.

“Time loops...?” she repeated. She placed a finger against her chin. “Well... I know of a light novel called ‘All You Need Is Kill’. Admittedly I was intrigued by the concept... in it, there are two soldiers, and one of them must die for them to escape a time loop. That oozes with potential in the right hands.”

“Who is it by?” he asked. She didn’t answer right away.

“I don’t remember,” she replied, fidgeting. “I dislike light novels. They’re often bloated and are basically the cheap romance books you find in a grocery store to pass the time on a train ride home. I doubt you’ll find any of that trash in here.”

He considered her words. While yes, he could kill Touko, if that did end up getting him out of the loop, he would have to make sure he got away with it lest he end up with the same fate as Leon. 

It was like some invisible force was forcing his hand...

... or something not so invisible.

“You are to leave now,” he said.

Confusion crumpled her features.

“Huh?” she went.

“Go wash your ears out along with the rest of your body. I said get out,” he snapped in a sharp tone. “You’re stinking up the place. I’m done with you now.”

Touko stood frozen for a couple of seconds. Then her shoulders slumped and she turned away. With her head bowed forward, she shuffled to the library door. But she didn’t leave. Not yet. She looked over her shoulder at him.

“Togami-kun,” she said. He didn’t answer. That didn’t stop her pressing on. “Romance novels aren’t frivolous. They don’t have to be. In the right hands, they can be very powerful indeed...”

He didn’t look at her and said, “I told you to get out.”

And then she did, finally. When the door shut, Byakuya jerked his head up and clapped twice, hard enough that his palms tingled like the dust and dim lighting that speckled the room.

“Oi. Monobear!” Byakuya called out.

“Did someone say my name?”

Monobear appeared from behind a unit. It marched up to him, tilting its head back with its usual unreadable expression as it approached. Once it arrived a short distance in front of him, it held its paws together in front of itself and wiggled its hips.

“Imagine, the Togami-kun... choosing me, out of everyone here, to be his girlfriend!” said Monobear. Its paws shot up to cradle its cheeks. Byakuya glared.

“Oh, be quiet, you,” he said. “I want to know what you did to me.”

“No way, you’re telling me you really have feelings for me?” gasped Monobear, sticking out an arm defensively in front of itself.

“You know what I’m talking about!” Byakuya growled. He clenched his fists. “Somehow, you’ve made this day reset for me... explain yourself!”

At first, Monobear didn’t respond. Then, in a level tone, it said, “Togami-kun...”

It paused again, then threw its arms upward.

“... I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Don’t play games with me,” Byakuya demanded.

Monobear quirked its head to one side and positioned its paws over its mouth.

“No, really... I think you need to go have a lie down,” said Monobear. “You seem to be losing your grip on reality... upupupu... this will make things more fun!”

Byakuya thrust his hand forward and rolled up his sleeve, revealing the marks on his wrist.

“I’m not an idiot. These marks obviously refer to the number of times this day has already happened,” he said.

“I’m a bear, not a therapist,” Monobear replied. “Can you see a ‘b’ anywhere in that word? Though, I am intrigued...”

At the same time, Monobear and Byakuya cupped their chins. During the previous loops, none of Monobear’s behaviour stood out or came across as any more suspicious than usual, but then, as Monobear was a robot, that wouldn’t be much of a feat. It was a mask for whoever controlled it. 

Of the two, Byakuya let go of his chin first.

“... That’s all I wanted to say,” said Byakuya. “You may leave now.”

Monobear twitched.

“What? You told me all that and that’s it? Come on, I’ll be your btherapist! So you were saying everyday seems the same to you, was that it?”

He nudged his glasses, looking away.

“... It was a test,” he said. Monobear recoiled.

“What?” squawked Monobear. “This is like talking to Hagakure-kun! You made me believe something so weird... how cruel!”

Byakuya continued to ignore Monobear, who after a small tantrum then left. He was alone once more, for now.

Later, when they received their envelopes and Byakuya told everyone about Syo, which of course no one believed, he walked out of the gymnasium and wondered. If he went to the library, Syo killed him. When he stayed in his room, the day reset.

Sitting on the end of his bed, staring at his pocket watch, he tried to decide what course of action to take. Even when he didn’t die, he still found himself at the beginning of the cycle. He didn’t know what he had to do to escape it, if he could escape, but doing either of those things hadn’t worked.

Then there was the matter of not knowing if anything would end the cycle. Perhaps after a certain number of loops had elapsed, it would end regardless of the outcome. Therefore, he couldn’t be careless in case a cycle ended with his death.

All of a sudden, he felt his head grow heavy. His body grow heavy. And he fell asleep.

* * *

As expected, Byakuya woke up the next day with another mark on his wrist, and also as expected, the library didn’t have any light novels so he couldn’t investigate the one Touko mentioned. It would have almost certainly not provided any answers to his predicament, but it had been something. 

After Touko arrived with Makoto to perform their tedious comedy routine, Byakuya once again sent Makoto on his way and once again ordered Touko to bring him coffee. Byakuya was sitting at a desk when she set down the saucer in front of him. He picked up the cup and tasted from it.

His brow furrowed.

“This is different,” he said.

“L-Luwak coffee varies between cups,” she piped up.

“Its flavour is stronger.” He shifted his gaze from the cup to her face. “What did you do it?”

“N-Nothing! I prepared it perfectly...!” she assured him, waving her hands.

“How?”

Touko hesitated. Her hands sank a little.

“With... a saucepan...?”

“I only drink it drip brew.”

She squawked and bowed, clutching her hands in front of herself. 

“Sorry!” said Touko, still bent over, trembling faintly. “P-Please... feel free to pour it over me, and I’ll...”

It sounded almost like she wanted him to. A quiver of yearning rocked her voice.

“Shut up,” he said, though not with as much venom as he could have. He sipped again. Its smooth, earthy, nutty flavour washed over his tongue. 

Admittedly, it actually tasted better this way. Byakuya put down the cup with a gentle clink. 

“It will do. Tell me how you knew to do it this way.”

Touko peeked up and adjusted her glasses, which had fallen down her nose.

“My old home’s kitchen had limited supplies, most of which were faulty or past their use by date, so I read how to do it with what I had so I could prepare coffee for my father,” she explained. She straightened and wrapped her arms around herself. “Or for myself... though I’m more of a tea drinker than a coffee drinker.”

Byakuya eyed her as he picked up his cup of coffee again. The rim of it hovered by his lips. Curious... she made him feel curious. There was a side of her who was a serial killer, who he spent years researching, but there was also this side of her.

This day would probably restart, so it didn’t matter if he questioned her on a few trivial things. Touko wouldn’t remember, and he ought to get to know her more for the sake of trying to escape the time loop and even for the rest of the game. He didn’t know for sure, but he had a feeling she was somehow involved in the day restarting. 

She was an opponent, an obstacle. The more he knew about her, the more information he had to use. To exploit. To take advantage of.

“You’re well-read, aren’t you?” he said in a light tone. “Though you specialise in romance, you keep your mental library diverse.”

“Y-Yes!” she said, smiling, pleased like she hadn’t told him that already. 

Technically, she hadn’t. He set down his cup. It clicked against the saucer.

“Tell me. Why romance?” he asked. “It’s a waste of your talent, writing stories about something as pathetic as the concept of romance.”

Like the last time, he touched a nerve that made her tense. Made anger tighten her features, that didn’t quite leave her face as she swallowed.

“I-It’s not a waste,” she told him. Her nails bit into her palms. “Romance... love... is a source of strength. It makes you want to press forward, no matter how scary and painful things are around you for that love you have inside of you... and it’s a source of happiness too. It fills you with a powerful energy that fuels, motivates you. It makes you grow, bloom... drawing out your true self, good and bad... For me, writing it is an escape into a better world...”

Byakuya’s expression didn’t waver.

“Emotional bonds can easily be taken advantage of,” he pointed out.

“That’s true... b-but...”

She trailed off, evidently with no comeback, and looked like she was sucking on something sour. He decided he might as well make use of her while she was still here, so he flicked his wrist and changed the subject. 

“Moving on. Do you know any good mystery novels? I might be in here for a while, and if you want to live up to your title, you should be able to recommend me something.”

Touko averted her eyes but returned her gaze to him shortly after.

“If you want a recommendation...”

“I do.”

She stood taller with a grim look still on her face.

“It depends what sort of plots and themes interest you. Confessions is a psychological thriller focusing on a teacher’s revenge. A quote sticks out from it... ‘Weak people find even weaker people to be their victims.’ If you want a detective series, Galileo is a popular one... The first novel in the series is the most acclaimed, but another novel by the author, Journey Under the Midnight Sun, hits a poignant note for me. It was adapted for TV, but I can’t stand adaptations so I have never seen it.”

Byakuya listened quietly. He stroked his chin.

“I would like to read the last book you mentioned,” he said. “Who is it by?”

“Um... Keigo Higashino.”

“I see,” he said, and without pause, he added, “You can go now.”

She shrunk back. “I...”

His glare withered her.

“Now. Before you stink the entire library up,” he said. “You need a shower.”

Touko walked away, beneath a gloomy cloud that followed her out. When she was finally gone, Byakuya heaved out a sigh. It dissipated within seconds and the library soon resumed its silence.

Byakuya spent much of the day in the library, reading the novel Touko suggested to him. He found it in the mystery section and read it in the light from his lamp. However, progress was slow, as his mind kept drifting off to consider what he could do that night. For example, he could refuse to listen to her confession. Perhaps close himself up in his room.

But then... what if Syo decided to go out and kill? What if she killed someone to hide her secret? Most students stayed in their rooms at night, but a scrawny, pitiful girl like that could easily draw someone out. Then all she would have to do is kill someone, and no one would believe it was her.

A thought came to him. When he didn’t die, she was presumably looking for him. Nothing happened to him, yet the day restarted anyway. What if something happened to her? Or in the library?

He thought it worth investigating at least.

That night, after they got their envelopes and he divulged her secret, he slipped into the library’s backroom, creaked the door ajar, and waited. 

Eventually, the door across the room opened, and someone came in, breathing loudly. Due to the library’s awful lighting, he could barely distinguish the outline of the person, but he could see how their limbs swayed as they swaggered in and their twin braids looking like a pair of snakes.

“I can smell you,” the person said, but in a low, raspy voice Touko never otherwise spoke with. Syo. This must have been Syo. “I know you’re in here... You broke our heart, Stud...”

She began prowling. Byakuya held his breath. Desks overturned. Chairs tipped over. They boomed on impact, creating grotesque silhouettes. As time ticked by, Syo became more vicious. Shoving. Flinging. Snarling.

Then, when she was standing near him, she turned and locked eyes with him. He stiffened, and with a wide grin, she flourished her scissors.

* * *

Five marks.


	3. III

Byakuya’s wrist bore nine marks by the time he finished Journey Under the Midnight Sun. In that time, he had died three more times. 

* * *

When he tried to tell everyone about Syo during breakfast, just like every other time, no one believed him. Because Touko had been absent during this, he continued the day as usual, sending Makoto away and later listening to Touko’s confession. Nothing about Touko’s behaviour betrayed that she knew what he had done that morning. Soon after, he collected his envelope with the others, and at night time, he decided to visit the library, thinking he could find another hiding place to spy on Syo.

Only... on the way there, in one of Hope’s Peak’s fluorescent corridors, someone stepped in front of him. Not Touko. Sakura. She gazed down at him with a flinty stare.

He retaliated with a colder one. “You’re blocking my way.”

Without a word, she grabbed his neck and picked him up. Byakuya choked out a gasp. She squeezed. Something cracked. White spots blotted his vision, and he woke up in his bed.

* * *

This time, when he told everyone about Syo during breakfast, he made sure to add that if he was to be murdered, the culprit would be either Touko or Sakura. By mentioning those two, he assumed Sakura would be deterred from murdering him. Everyone would know it was either of them.

So again, that night, he not so much as headed to the library but to that particular corridor.

Like before, Sakura loomed in front of him, emerging from the same wall she had been leaning on last time. He stopped a short distance away and folded his arms over his chest.

“You can’t kill me. Everyone will know it was you,” he told her with a sliver of a smirk.

Sakura stared at him emotionlessly, still blocking his path. Byakuya sneered.

“You’re in my way,” he told her.

Then she moved. She grabbed him by the neck and lifted him off the ground, holding him as high as she could.

Looking him in the eyes, she said calmly, “So be it, Genocider Syo.”

Byakuya twitched and clawed at her hands fruitlessly. “What? No, I’m not...”

She widened her eyes and clenched. A crack popped the air. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t.

He woke up in his bed.

* * *

After that, he stayed in his room at night, but he still woke up with another mark on his wrist.

Still, at least now he knew he always fell asleep at the same point.

* * *

“... and so I have been through this day eight times already,” finished Byakuya, on his feet as he faced the rest of his classmates bar Touko, who as in all the other cycles hadn’t turned up to breakfast.

They stared at him silently, sat around the biggest table in the cafeteria.

Eventually, Makoto piped up in a quiet voice, “I don’t get your sense of humour at all, Togami-kun.”

That didn’t work. Later, after Byakuya tried but failed to alert everyone about Syo’s presence, he lingered at the end of the corridor by the library, waiting to see if something happened to Touko when she arrived there without him. 

When Syo entered his vision, he held his breath and watched. She flitted in and out of the library until she stopped in her tracks and turned toward where he was hidden. The corners of her lips soared upward as she lurched toward him.

As he fell with her weight pressing down on him, he thought he saw another figure at the other end of the corridor.

* * *

And so nine tally marks sat casually on Byakuya’s wrist. He tapped his fingers against the desk as he reread Syo’s casefile. A copy of Journey Under the Midnight Sun rested nearby.

If Syo was an idiot, she would have been caught by now, so the fact she was so adept at locating him and murdering him didn’t seem strange. Perhaps he needed to keep track of her location before she neared the library. Yes. He could do that tonight, in fact.

The library door opened. Touko shut it behind her, and though the tray in her possession wobbled, it didn’t fall out of her hands.

“Luwak coffee, prepared on a pan just as you requested,” she said as she put the tray down on the desk. She stepped back and held her hands in front of herself as she waited for his verdict.

Due to how luwak coffee is made, each cup usually had a slightly different taste, but as he sipped, this one tasted like all the others he drank before.

Her eyes flitted to the book on the desk, purposely passing over the casefile on his lap. If she hadn’t grimaced, he would have thought she hadn’t noticed it. No one else would have understood why her features dimmed, if only for a few seconds, but her eyebrows rose as she read the title of the other book.

“Journey Under the Midnight Sun?” she remarked with a small smile building on her face. She focused her eyes on him now. “You have excellent taste, Togami-kun. Keigo Higashino is considered a master of the mystery genre by many.”

Touko had commented that several times already. He gazed at her.

“What did you think of it?” he asked.

She shifted her weight and straightened as she breathed in.

“It’s an incredibly dark psychological thriller, spanning a period of twenty years from the murder of a pawnbroker,” she told him. “It follows the ripple effect these events had on two people, entwined by misfortune.”

Despite the macabre subject, her smile grew like mould setting in. She didn’t speak loudly, taking up little of the dim library, yet her small frame drew his attention. And in that glow, she thrived. Her voice bubbled.

“Though we can deduce the culprits at an early stage,” she said, hands animatedly gesturing as she spoke, “it’s the journey and the how and why that keeps you hooked, as well as the links between the episodic sections of the book that become clear partway through when everything starts to coalesce, creating a single narrative. When writing a mystery, it’s important for it to be satisfying when the writer shows their full hand, and it is here. Truly, it gets under your skin...”

Byakuya changed which leg he had crossed over the other and pushed up his glasses. While clearly, she was trying to impress him with her knowledge of the plot and how the book was written, she had the experience and talent to back it up. He focused his eyes on her face as he gave his insight.

“The lurches in perspective and time may put off some, and the plot is intricate and convoluted almost to a fault, but I found it invigorating,” he said. “It was interesting to observe the shifts in culture as time passed. The characters are not black or white... they feel three-dimensional, nuanced.”

“Yes! I appreciated that as well. We get a deep look into their hearts,” said Touko, nodding so hard that she could have dislocated something. She hugged herself. “It gave me chills...”

He kept watching her.

“What did you think of Kirihara?” he asked. “An emotionally-stunted man... who after he witnessed his own father molesting his friend, murdered him with a pair of scissors. It’s not as ridiculous as some might think. It reminded me of the perplexing case of Genocider Syo.”

Touko froze. Her smile vanished, and her mouth became a thin crevice on blanched skin. Byakuya tilted his head forward, just a little, resting his chin on the back of his hand.

“The world is a very dark place, isn’t it?” he said quietly.

“It is,” she told him, hushed.

“This book isn’t a romance.” He picked it up without breaking eye contact. “I don’t think many people would associate you with it. Tell me... does it resonate with you at all?”

“It does.” Her lips squirmed. She picked at her fingers. “I think... h-happy people can only write about a shallow world. It is the downtrodden, the outcasts, that can see the world for what it is, and only they can visualise an ideal world. A skilled writer sees beauty in ugliness, and ugliness in beauty. A lion devouring its prey... a supermodel with limbs as thin as her puppet strings... the human mind... Ugliness and beauty are not opposites, but aspects of a single thing.”

Byakuya didn’t pay attention to how his lips formed a ghost of a smile. Touko stared back at him, colour rising to her face, and as Byakuya opened his mouth to reinstigate the conversation, he felt something rise in his chest. Something from deep within, from reaches he didn’t know existed in his expanse, that swelled, a nothingness that swelled, made him feel lighter, and his breath tripped up in his throat.

It lasted a moment, like exhalation splattering condensation against glass, but it stained.

She stood in the centre of his vision, taking up space. Her small figure seemed to fill the room.

He swallowed. Inhaled with silent shakiness.

“That will be all,” he said, but she barely stirred, still entranced by him. His voice rose. “Get out. And for God’s sake, take a shower...”

Touko squeaked and gave a jolt. His words sank in and she sagged as she trooped out of the library. Byakuya gritted his teeth, and even after she left, he couldn’t shake the tension that seized his body. Thinking about the sensation that had flickered in his chest made him shudder, made his skin crawl.

Though... she wouldn’t remember it after today, if the day reset.

Really, it would never have happened.

As he sat at the desk, alone, he cupped his chin and thought that tonight he would spend the night in his room.

He could put his plan of spying on her earlier in the night to action another time.

After all, once this was over, he might not have another chance before Touko dropped out of the game, and it had been a long time since he had someone he could have such revitalising conversations with.

* * *

With fifteen marks on his wrist, Byakuya sat on the end of his bed, drumming his fingers against his thigh as he plotted out his plans for that night. Whenever he tried to tell the others about Touko and Syo sharing the same body, no one believed him. Understandable. All he had as proof was his word, and even though he was Byakuya Togami, that wasn’t enough for them to trust what he said as truth, apparently.

Idiots.

Byakuya wondered if he could trick Touko into giving him her envelope... though she would have no reason to give it to him. She would just tell him it was what she told him before, and nothing would come of it. For them to believe him, they would have to see Syo for themselves. If he could make Syo front with everyone else around, they would see he was right and their alternate-universe selves were wrong.

First, he would have to find out if anything triggered them to change.

The next day, Byakuya waited in the library for Touko and Makoto to perform their unsubtle attempt at a subtle entrance. He dismissed Makoto almost immediately and while he waited for Touko to return with luwak coffee, he leafed through the shelves for something to read and discuss.

When the door opened across the room, he had his back toward it. He heard it creak. He heard her footsteps. The rattle of china.

“Are you looking for another detective novel?” Touko asked him.

“Hm?” he went, and he turned toward her.

She was standing by a desk. He prodded at his glasses. 

“Yes,” he answered.

Touko pulled a face.

“For inspiration?” she half-asked, half-stated.

He recalled when he had told everyone he was reading detective novels for reference, so when he killed someone, it would be original. To everyone else, that hadn’t been long ago, but for him, that conversation occurred roughly two weeks ago.

“Yes, I am,” he confirmed, and he folded his arms over his chest. “However, a lot of these are rather... tedious.”

She straightened her back and shoulders.

“If you want a recommendation, I can give you one,” she offered. “Confessions is a psychological thriller focusing on a teacher’s revenge. A quote sticks out from it... ‘Weak people find even weaker people to be their victims...’” 

Touko had recommended that before, as well as Journey Under the Midnight Sun, which he had already read. He took a seat nearby and listened quietly as she came to the end of her spiel.

“It was adapted for TV, but I can’t stand adaptations so I have never seen it,” she told him, wrinkling her nose.

“You can’t stand adaptations?” he remarked. He tilted his head to one side. “Why is that?”

Touko’s lips screwed up as her frown deepened.

“Make no mistake, writing a good novel is not easy, but when I write, I don’t have to rely on others,” she explained. “I draw from my own imagination. I write with my own sweat and blood. When you adapt someone else’s writing, you have to rely on other people to pull their weight. A director directs it. The actors play their parts. Even the screenwriter, who uses my manuscript, has to write a script. Everyone is a cog in a machine. And here, my vision can become tainted. Scenes are cut out... scenes are added, or edited. Due to the lack of chapters, the pace is different. Actors and actresses portray my creations with the wrong nuances, different faces, unintelligent interpretations of my prose... Argh!”

A sharp shout escaped her. Touko’s face scrunched up as she tugged on her hair. She shook her head.

“... I can’t take it! My novels are to be digested over time, not in a ninety minute chunk!”

He propped up his chin on his hand, resting his elbow on the desk. His eyes didn’t wander from her.

“So you don’t care for movies?” he asked. 

Touko twitched and let go of her head, but kept her hands suspended in midair.

“O-Of course I care for them!” she said. “I dislike adaptations, especially of my own novels. Even when people come up to me during book signings, telling me about my book like they know more about it than I do... ah, I get riled up just thinking about it!” 

She wrapped her arms around herself with a shudder.

“Most of them claim to have read my book, but then they misinterpret it to the point I don’t even think they read it,” she added, and though her glare wasn’t aimed at him, he felt its heat brush past him.

Byakuya picked up his cup and swigged from it. Touko gulped, and seemed to calm down a bit.

“As for movies... I like a few,” she said. She looked down. “T-Though, after talking to Naegi, I’m not sure if they’re the sorts of things that most people know.”

“Oh?” Byakuya quirked his brow. “Like what? A romance? Most guys aren’t interested in those.”

“Not exactly,” she said, wincing. “There’s a movie called Branded to Kill. When I organised a date with a boy, we were going to see a Seijun Suzuki triple feature...”

He found himself lifting his chin off his hand.

“You’re a fan?” he said. Touko widened her eyes at him.

“Of course! Seijun Suzuki was a genius,” she gushed. “A visionary! He took the conception of a low budget b-movie and nurtured it into a masterpiece! The stylish visuals! The unrestrained, unashamed absurdity! One could say it surpasses its cult classic status and should be considered one of the greatest movies ever made!”

By now, she was grinning, and she hugged herself, gazing at him with twinkles in her eyes. She was like a lamp in a dim library.

Byakuya smiled slightly, and he tried to bite it back when he realised.

“And here I thought our tastes were starkly different,” he told her. His smile slipped out again, small but there. “I can’t deny it, but you’re showing some taste I can agree with. I’m a fan as well, though I would have thought the lack of focus of a plot in Branded to Kill would have grated on you.”

Touko shook her head. 

“Of course not! A lot of it leaves room for the imagination... It’s a metaphorical journey through Hell. A man whose fetish is the smell of boiling rice... A woman who collects dead butterflies and hangs them all around her apartment... A ranking system for hitmen... It brims with ingenious satire. It’s delicious. It’s truly an art form...”

Byakuya continued staring at her. Touko trembled, but not with fear, or from the cold. The ends of her lips pointed upward as she drank in his gaze, relished it, but then, as she breathed in, she hesitated. Choked. If she had been a chandelier, one of her lights would have flickered off. And then another.

She swallowed. Whatever it was tasted bitter, and she seemed to sink back into the darkness of the room, just a little bit.

“... I also appreciate that it’s in black and white,” she added, playing with her fingers. “I have hemophobia, but seeing all the blood in monochrome eases it a bit...”

He recalled her mentioning this being why she didn’t spend much time near Sayaka’s corpse, which had had a kitchen knife embedded in her, doused in blood.

“I doubt the AV room will have it in stock,” she added wistfully, looking away. “Otherwise, we could have watched it together...”

A chill rippled down his back. He set his cup down rather forcefully.

“No, you’ve used enough of my time already,” he said, and he pointed at the door. “Begone with you. I have important research to do, and you are distracting me.”

Touko yelped. “S-Sorry! Right away, Togami-kun!”

Byakuya spent the rest of the day looking for something to read, having sent Touko away without getting a new suggestion from her first. None of the books he found jumped out at him. If tonight’s plan didn’t amount to anything, he thought he could perhaps get another recommendation from Touko. In the meantime, he went through Syo’s casefile again, and he was reading a book with a locked room mystery involving the death of a womaniser and the further murders of women associated with him when Touko came in a little while before Monobear would summon them to the gymnasium.

“Togami-kun?” she said, standing a short but notable distance away, wringing her hands like they had dirt that just wouldn’t wash off. “Can I ask you something?”

He adjusted his glasses and let the conversation unfurl as it usually did. She told him about Syo, and about how she was afraid Syo would kill again and how she needed him to help her stop Syo from coming out and murdering someone. As she spoke, he watched her every movement, every frantic twitch of her hand, every quiver on her lips, and he took note whenever her voice cracked, whenever a choked sob popped out instead of a word. All this, he allowed to happen in silence, with only a standard response when she directly appealed to him, and when he consented to her plea for help, she cracked a smile and almost melted into a puddle.

“As long as we’re in this place, no matter what happens, I won’t let Genocider Syo kill again,” Touko assured him with her hands clasped tightly in front of her. “T-Thank you, Togami-kun...!”

Here, he would usually dismiss her.

Instead, he raised a hand. 

“One question though,” he said, his head inclined forward. “Tell me, is there anything that triggers your alter to front?”

Touko didn’t answer right away. For a moment, he thought she had got wise, that she would swerve away from answering his question.

She breathed shakily.

“... Blood,” she said. “Seeing blood can make her come out.”

“I see,” said Byakuya. He tightened his lips. “That’s all I wanted to know. Goodbye.”

Her long skirt swished as she bowed deeply and hurried out of the room. 

After a few seconds, he stood up. What a fool she was. 

Before Byakuya went to the gymnasium, he made a brief detour to the kitchen, and hiding a knife up his sleeve, he arrived with the others and waited for the right time to present itself. That time was when Monobear flung out the envelopes. Alongside the others, Byakuya picked up his one, and then he turned to the others.

“Everyone, I have an announcement,” he said, and even Monobear looked on without interrupting. “Earlier, Fukawa told me something. Fukawa told me... that she is Genocider Syo!”

He pointed at her dramatically. She shrieked and tensed like he shot a gun at her. An unloaded gun, but one all the same.

“Fukawa?” repeated Mondo, gawking at him as he motioned to Touko with his thumb. Aoi put her hands on her hips.

“Fukawa-chan can’t even stand blood,” Aoi said, brow furrowed. “She fainted when Enoshima-chan died, and she couldn’t look at Maizono-chan’s body either. How could she be a bloodthirsty killer?”

“Indeed,” Kiyotaka piped up. “Togami-kun, that’s a ridiculous claim!”

“I can prove it,” Byakuya told them.

Byakuya dropped his envelope and wrenched up his sleeve. Then, he pulled out the knife, ignoring the gasps and how everyone widened their eyes. He placed the blade against his arm. Sucking in his cheeks, keeping his jaw clenched, he drew a line across his exposed skin. Blood oozed out, and within seconds, Touko’s eyes rolled back into her head.

“Y-You...!” she went.

Before Touko could say anything else, she fainted, falling backward and hitting the ground with an uncomfortable thud. The rest of the class erupted almost immediately.

“Fukawa-chan!” Aoi cried out, falling to her knees beside Touko. Sakura swooped down within seconds, gently lifting Touko’s head off the ground and cupping the back of it.

Mondo lunged at Byakuya, grabbing him roughly by the shirt. Byakuya dropped the knife and heard it clatter against the gymnasium flooring.

“Have you lost your mind?” Mondo snarled, shaking him roughly. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

All Byakuya did was give a glimpse of a smirk. Mondo’s eyes flashed.

“I oughta...” Trailing off, Mondo raised his other fist. Kiyotaka rushed over.

“Kyoudai!” said Kiyotaka as he seized Mondo’s elevated arm. “Please, I understand your anger... but you mustn’t give into it!”

Touko began mumbling. Kiyotaka and Mondo wheeled around toward her with the rest of the class. Then, without warning, Touko sprung to her feet. Sakura and Aoi stared up at her. They all stared. When Touko landed, her body swayed, her limbs loose, gaze vacant.

This was not the gaze Byakuya remembered seeing just before he died.

“Is it morning already?” Touko asked, her tongue hanging out of her mouth. She stopped rocking, and in a slurred tone that lacked her stutter, she added, “Wakey, wakey!”

No one else moved as Byakuya gestured to her wildly. Well, as wildly as he could with Mondo still clinging to him.

“It’s Genocider Syo,” he insisted.

“Yup, that’s me,” said Touko and she let out a laugh like a hyena, throwing back her head. 

She stumbled backward, barely catching herself from falling back down, and even when she stopped, she still teetered on the spot. 

“Water has three states: solid, liquid and gas. But you have melting ice, or evaporating water. Am I right?” she drawled.

Yasuhiro raised a hand feebly. 

“I think Fukawa-chi hit her head too hard, ‘right?” he said with an uneasy smile.

No one spoke initially. Celes turned to Byakuya first.

“... It pains me to say this, but I think Hagakure-kun is right,” said Celes.

“No, it’s her! It’s Genocider Syo!” Byakuya told them, but everyone had already begun turning their backs on him, eyeing Touko with apprehension while she seemed blissfully unaware of their presence.

But they weren’t suspicious of her. They were concerned.

“Someone better escort her to her room,” said Sakura.

“I’ll do it,” offered Aoi. She looked around. “Um... can anyone help me?”

Hifumi stepped forward. “I will.”

“Ishimaru can,” said Byakuya like Hifumi hadn’t spoken. His arm stung, but most of all, even more painful, was the pang in his chest. In hindsight, this hadn’t been guaranteed to work. When Touko fainted after Junko’s punishment of spears, she hadn’t swapped over to Syo as far as he knew. She had woken up as herself still.

There had to be more to it. Mondo gave Byakuya another shake.

“We should tie him up,” said Mondo, still grasping his shirt. “I don’t trust this bastard to leave our sight, even for a second... The guy brought a knife with him...”

“After such behaviour, I think that may be for the best,” said Sakura. “Let us treat him first.”

Aoi and Kiyotaka, with one of Touko’s arms slung over their shoulders, started leading her out.

Really, when Mondo opened the door to his dorm some hours later, Byakuya couldn’t be too surprised when Syo straddled him on his chair and drove her scissors into his throat. No one believed him when he had told them this would happen.

* * *

The one time Byakuya seemed to survive the day was when he spent the night in his room without drawing too much attention to himself, but that didn’t seem to be the solution. He still restarted the day. Over the course of the next several days, he tried to figure out what to do, residing in his room every night like he wanted to obey the unofficial curfew the others had started. Trying to trigger Syo to front had failed. Everything had failed so far.

If only he knew what he was supposed to achieve from this. Or even if he wasn’t supposed to achieve anything at all. When he survived after a night in his room, the day just began again. Multiple times, he had died, yet that didn’t end the cycle either.

Unless he had died and he was in an afterlife.

Byakuya heard the library door creak open. He knew the script of the scene that followed word-for-word. How Makoto would fumble, how Touko would smirk and fidget after she emerged from the shadows. 

“Leave, Naegi,” said Byakuya, seated at a desk. “I wish to discuss something with Fukawa in private.”

Touko jerked her head back and gasped, eyelashes aflutter. Spending time with him must have been her goal, yet she still seemed shocked that it happened. Makoto cast her a worried glance before turning his gaze back to Byakuya and did not move after that.

“Did you change names? I said leave, Naegi,” said Byakuya with a sneer. “That means you, and that means right now.”

“What sort of mutt doesn’t know his own name?” asked Touko, and Byakuya didn’t quite restrain his snort in time. Touko heard it, and she looked at him and smiled.

Makoto did not smile.

“... Right,” Makoto said, and without another word, he left.

Once he was gone, Touko licked her lips.

“It’s just us now,” she said. “In a dark room... together. Alone. Even though I’m scared of the dark, if I’m with you... I can enjoy...”

She shuddered, holding herself, and didn’t finish her train of thought. That was probably for the best. Byakuya grimaced.

“Oi. You. Get me some luwak coffee. Brew it in a saucepan,” he said, pointing at her. His finger dipped, and he added, “And get yourself something to drink too.”

Her eyes widened, and she gave a jolt like he snapped her out of a trance.

“Yes! Right away!” she promised, and she bolted out of the room.

Twenty minutes later, Touko returned, grinning with rosy cheeks at the almost explicit invitation for her company. She set the tray onto the desk beside Byakuya, placing it next to a copy of Journey Under the Midnight Sun.

“You have excellent taste, Togami-kun. Keigo Higashino is considered a master of the mystery genre by many,” she said as she straightened.

Annoyingly, as many times as they talked about this book, or any book, they would always be back to square one the following day. Of course, the books had little to do with figuring out how to escape the time loop, but Byakuya needed something to pass the time until later, when she told him about Syo and they received their envelopes, and intelligent conversations about books was one of those ways. Byakuya studied the cover of the shut book, thinking about the many hours they spent discussing its contents that Touko didn’t remember. 

His lips shrivelled shut and he flitted his eyes back to her face that watched him eagerly. By now, since this all started, more days had passed than he cared to admit.

“You’re right. I do have excellent taste,” he agreed, and he pointed to a nearby chair. “I’ll tell you what... If you don’t fill my space with your rotten breath, you can sit down. Let’s talk some more.”

She blinked, and as it dawned on her what he proposed, she hugged herself.

“W-What’s happening?” she mumbled. “Am I... dreaming?”

“You’re not. Now sit before I change my mind.”

Touko pounced on the chair and seated herself almost immediately. Something in his chest shifted uncomfortably as she stared at him with wide eyes and a wide smile.

“You specialise in romance novels, but you are not a Super High School Level Romance Author. You’re a Literary Girl,” he said, giving nothing away.

“That’s right... E-Even though I’m most known for my romance novels, I read and write for a range of different genres.”

“Oh?” he said. He cocked his head to one side. While he knew she read different genres, he didn’t know she wrote for them too. “All I’ve seen you write is romance.”

She sat up. Stopped slouching.

“Like you said, that’s what I specialise in,” she said with her hands resting together on her lap. Her cup breathed steam where she had left it on the desk. “Even someone like me, downtrodden and persecuted by the rest of the world, can visualise an ideal, happy world. In fact, I would go as far as to say that I can imagine one more vividly than most. H-Happy people can only imagine a shallow world...”

“So you are not a happy person?”

Most people would come to that conclusion within their first conversation with her. When she stood, she stood with her shoulders curved, with chewed nails and restless hands. She stood with sunken cheeks bridged together with cracked, pinched lips. Her pale grey eyes studied him as her forehead wrinkled with some perpetually troubled thought that seemed to age Touko.

“Hm,” she went. That was answer enough.

“It sounds like when you write romance, it’s therapeutic,” he said.

“I suppose,” she mumbled.

They had both barely started their drinks, with the heat from the few sips he had taken since faded from his mouth. While his cup contained dark brown coffee, hers held amber liquid. The earthy and herbaceous aroma of her tea blended with the scent of his beverage. Touko picked her cup up but didn’t drink from it, instead giving her hands something to fiddle with.

His stare didn’t relent, and she writhed in her seat as he probed her. The cause of Dissociative Identity Disorder sparked many a debate. Some professionals believed the cause to be childhood trauma, while others hypothesised that it was a by-product resulting from certain therapist techniques. He suspected Touko hadn’t seen a therapist about this. Or talked to anyone about it. 

For so many years, she had kept this secret to herself. Touko had to. When she told him, it must have been a huge weight that was lifted. She must have felt, if only slightly, lighter.

“Let’s see if you’re as well-versed as you claim to be. I would like you to recommend me something to read you think I would enjoy,” he said.

Despite her gloomy aura, she gave a little smirk. “You’re really interested in detective stuff, aren’t you?”

“I am. I’ve read a lot of mystery novels and poured many hours into investigating cold cases,” he told her. “In fact, I’ve even solved a few. My first was a serial killer who left a lipstick kiss on his female victims. He turned out to be a travelling anthropologist with delusions of his deceased sister.”

Touko carefully set down her tea before lacing her fingers together. She sat back in her chair.

“That’s a macabre hobby you have there, Togami-kun,” she remarked, her smirk still glimmering on her face. “But I suppose you need something to do while you wait to take over from your father.”

Her assumption was like a book slamming down hard, throwing up dust. His nostrils flared. His chest tightened. Her face was unbearably smug.

“I don’t like what you’re implying,” he said. 

She cringed at his sharp tone. 

“A-Ah?”

“And don’t breathe all over me,” he snapped. “You’ve overstayed your welcome. You’ve got too cocky.”

Touko ogled him. “C-C-Co-?”

“Leave. Now!” he almost shouted.

She did. Once she had, he scraped his hair back. The echo of her voice rang in his ears. Not words, or any word, but noise, grumbling, like a pained whine.

Later, like clockwork, she returned, and in much the same way, he woke up in his bed with another mark on his arm and a dull weight in his chest.

* * *

Byakuya had always been a Togami right from the day he was born, but he had been known as Byakuya Polanski for much of his life so far. To think that he hadn’t earned the right to be acknowledged as a Togami, or even that he had cheated as Monobear had and would phrase it in an envelope, burned under his skin. It prickled, an itch that would reappear after he scratched at it briefly. 

Being a Togami was more than that. Much more. He could accept people disliking and even despising him, but he took offence at the idea he was anything less than what he knew he was.

The next day, Byakuya ordered Touko to bring them drinks and seat herself at his desk once she returned. When she sat down, a cup of rose tea in her small hands, he sipped from his own cup, put it down and then spoke up.

“I want you to recommend me something to read, but first, I want to tell you a bit about myself... so you better know what I would like. As you will know, the Togami Conglomerate is a financial giant,” he said as steam wafted up from his coffee. “But by my own hand, I already hold several management positions and have amassed billions of yen.”

She nodded, smiling, but her smile didn’t light up her eyes, like she was looking at him but she wasn’t seeing him. Like she was daydreaming.

Byakuya usually didn’t talk about his personal life, but if stayed in his dorm tonight, then the loop would reset and she wouldn’t remember a thing. This conversation wouldn’t have happened, in a sense. He thought, perhaps, if she received a glimpse of a part of him he didn’t flaunt, then he would receive a glimpse of her back.

They were still opponents, after all.

“In addition to all that, I had to compete with others to be crowned the victor, the sole heir,” he announced.

Touko blinked.

“Others?” she asked, not quite shedding her dazed look.

“Indeed,” he said. “My father did not have a single wife - he procreated with many women across the globe, all of the highest quality, as per tradition. Then, we were pitted against each other in a series of challenges, such as making profits with a certain amount of funding in different industries and a scavenger hunt that only the best could complete. At first, there were more than one hundred of us, but by the final round, only fifteen of us remained, and I defeated them all.”

That caught her attention. Not so much the words but how he said them, speaking low with an edge sharp enough to draw blood had his tone been a knife. Touko jerked her head back and peeled one hand off her cup, balling a fist by her lips.

“W-What happened to them?” she asked. Byakuya leaned back in his chair.

“They died,” he said casually.

“D-Died?” she squawked. 

He sipped from his cup and waved a hand.

“Exiled... whatever. It’s the same thing,” he told her. “They were stripped of their identities, made into nobodies. So you see, I had to battle. I had to survive. I had to be perfect. I had to be what is expected of someone with the name Togami, or else you would not be talking to me, because I would not exist.”

Touko stared, taking in what he said. Parsing it into words, reining them in as they spun around in her head. He could see the gears turning through her wide eyes. Meanwhile, he set down his cup and pushed up his glasses.

“I’ve seen things you wouldn’t believe. I’ve been through trials no ordinary person would be wrung through,” he said, though he knew she wasn’t an ordinary person either. “Betrayals... Blackmail... Bloodshed... I’ve witnessed humanity at its worst, at its most honest. No one can be trusted. Everyone is my opponent. Can you imagine? Fifteen of us on an island, and by the end, only I was left. They thought me a runt. The youngest never won. Yet, though barely a teenager, I was the winner.”

Byakuya grinned as he came to the end of his speech. Touko did not.

“I beat them all,” he said.

As they regarded each other, he wondered if she sometimes saw that darkness in his eyes whenever she faced her reflection. She shut her mouth and looked away.

“I didn’t realise,” she said, then wet her lips. Still didn’t look at him.

He wasn’t deterred.

“So, with that in mind, what do you think I should read?” he asked calmly.

Her brow creased in thought.

“If you haven’t read it, I suggest The Inugami Clan,” she eventually said. “Your story reminds me of it. As with a lot of pulp novels, it does have some plot holes and moments where you have to suspend your disbelief, but it’s entertaining and delicious. I think you would enjoy it.”

Then she paused. She seemed like she had more to say.

She didn’t say anything though.

The rest of the day proceeded as usual. Later, she sought him out in the library as she ritually did now, and he went along with the confession like the previous times. Touko stood in front of him while he remained seated at a desk, gazing up at her as she spilled her life to him.

“She was created when I was younger,” Touko told him in a hushed tone, wringing her hands. “Created from an accumulation of abuse and pressure. We communicated via post-it notes at the beginning... I know every victim... I’ve woken up at crime scenes...”

Whereas other times Byakuya let her continue after the short period of silence that would follow, this time, he raised a hand.

“Elaborate on her creation,” he said. When she didn’t answer right away, without thinking, he added, “Please.”

Touko tensed. Her hands locked together in a vice grip.

“My life hasn’t been a bed of roses,” she explained shakily. “M-My father impregnated two women, who gave birth at the hospital... one of the newborns was me, and the other was my deceased half-sister. Neither woman wanted to believe I was their child, but they were stuck with me. And they resented me. So... So from a young age...”

She breathed. Shuddered.

“... I was starved. Assaulted. Locked in closets for days without food... Bullied by my peers for my unkempt appearance, my stutter and my fidgeting. I was the butt of every joke, an insult to be associated with. It was after my childhood friend stuck a love letter on a noticeboard to be ridiculed that a teacher encouraged me to start writing...”

Her hands drew up to her head. She hooked her fingers in her hair.

Byakuya continued gazing at her.

“When did she first appear?” he asked.

Touko bit her lip.

“... I don’t know,” she said. “For as long as I can remember, I’ve had blackouts. I’d wake up in different places. Be scolded for things I didn’t remember doing. She didn’t start out murdering, but then... after my childhood friend moved away, having pinned my love letter to a noticeboard, she must have chased him down. I woke up by his corpse in the middle of the night, in a different city.”

He raised his eyebrows. “So you’re unaware what she does...?”

She nodded. Interesting. 

Byakuya cupped his chin. The lapses in her memory must have been while Syo was fronting, certainly plausible with people who had DID. However, though Touko couldn’t remember what happened during that time, that didn’t mean Syo had no awareness. Indeed, Syo seemed to have some kind of co-consciousness because he couldn’t think why else she would chase him down if she didn’t know what he had told everyone. He remembered reading that for some alters, they could observe while not fronting but they couldn’t do anything during this. Each system was unique.

And while Byakuya could always ask Touko if Syo remembered, Touko might not have known. Or even, she might lie.

“No one around you noticed her?” he asked.

Touko shook her head. A beat passed, and then she answered verbally, not just with her tight features and pale face.

“No. My mothers despise me... and m-my father... paid attention to me in ways that I...” She cringed, almost choking, and stammered into a different line of conversation. “W-When I applied for high school, I moved away from them. I haven’t seen them since, but I send them money every month. That’s the arrangement.”

He pushed up his glasses, not taking his eyes off her. When his glasses fixed into place, her features sharpened. A frown hardened his face.

“Do you expect me to pity you after this sob story?” he asked.

She flinched, like she slapped him, but his hand never rose. His hand never touched her.

“... No,” she admitted quietly with her eyes downcast. “I’m used to that... not being pitied. I wouldn’t want you to anyway. I... I just want you to know that... I’ve been through Hell... and am still in it. And I can relate to you... not being able to trust others, having to keep people away... to always be on the lookout for betrayals, blackmail and b-bloodshed...”

And it had turned her personality dark. All her life, she had to keep people away from her. To protect them. To protect herself. So long as she had to hide Syo from everyone, she would never be able to open up. Relax. It turned her personality dark, and for him, in protecting himself, it had turned his personality cold.

Byakuya stared at the person in front of him. The young woman who didn’t sit straight, who twiddled her fingers, whose skin under her eyes were shadows like tea stains on a gaunt surface. Despite her small, wiry frame, she had indeed gone through a hell. This wasn’t like when Celes tried to relate to him weeks ago, before this day had even started for the first time. Here, he felt a spark, not a twinge of annoyance. He breathed in. Held his breath.

“With your help... I can try to keep her inside,” Touko said. She stepped closer. Byakuya didn’t move. “If I can’t abolish her, I can at least stop her. If I can... be with you... I can stop her. You can give me the strength to stop her. I just need you to promise me you won’t tell... and that you’ll help me.”

Her body shook but her eyes didn’t leave him, not even for a moment. Byakuya reached into the pit of his stomach and found his voice.

“... Alright,” he told her. “I will.”

“As long as we’re in this place, no matter what happens, I won’t let Genocider Syo kill again,” promised Touko. 

She gave a laugh. She was crying, but she was smiling too. Byakuya didn’t understand that. 

“T-Thank you, Byakuya-sama!” she said.

He took a second to recognise what she said. She had just referred to him by his first name. No one had done that, not for a long time. To everyone, he was Togami, first and foremost. Heir to the conglomerate. Intelligent. A successful business investment.

Yet there she stood, looking at him with those hideous eyes on that hideous face, calling him by his first name. He could barely stand to look at her. A strange chill trembled in him, like the unexpected brush of butterfly wings.

“Alright. If that’s everything, you can leave now,” he said, back to business, betraying nothing.

Byakuya sat in silence until Monobear’s gravelly voice filled the room, and then he went to tell everyone what Touko had told him.

* * *

The next day, she was back to calling him ‘Togami-kun’.


	4. IV

“I admit it,” said Touko shakily with a wide space around her in the gymnasium, on the verge of imploding from the pressure of their unrelenting stares. “I told him I am Genocider Syo.”

The whole class gawked at her. Byakuya’s eyebrows climbed. He began to smile. Almost laughed. Finally. Finally! Monobear ate popcorn nearby.

She dropped into a low bow, hiding her face.

“It’s just... he seemed so interested in him, that... that I thought if he thought I had something to do with him... then he would be interested in me too,” she explained.

Byakuya’s smile dried up and fell off his face. Everyone else looked at each other and nodded.

“That makes sense,” said Yasuhiro.

“I suppose so,” Kyouko chimed in, scratching her cheek.

Nearby, Byakuya pouted.

It didn’t stop Syo from trying to kill him later.

* * *

Time loops rolled by as Byakuya tried to figure out what to do. What he could do. Most of the time, he spent the day reading books and dissecting Touko, and at night, he remained in his room until he inexplicably lost consciousness. 

One time, he tried waiting in his room but not staying there the whole night. Instead, he planned to try talking to Syo, thinking he could talk her out of killing him. Besides, he had wanted to talk with her for years. This case had piqued his interest when he first found out about it, and as cases came and went, some being solved by him, this one always stayed at the back of his mind like a twin-braided girl watching him from across the library.

This could be his only chance to do that, before she died.

And so, after Monobear declared it night time, Byakuya stood up, rising off the edge of his bed. Either Syo was lurking outside of his door or she was prowling in the library. The soundproof walls of the dorms meant he couldn’t hear what was going on outside if she wasn’t hammering on his doorbell, so he had no idea where she was. Breathing quietly, he waited until his doorbell stopped screaming and made his way over to the door, and very slowly, he cracked it ajar, bringing his eye to the gap with great caution.

Silence.

He opened it a bit wider.

And then Syo impaled him in the eye.

* * *

Alright. So Syo seemed to wait outside his room, but if he went to the library, she chased after him. Maybe, then, if he wanted to talk to her, he needed to do it in the library. Yes... that was good. She would come to him, and he would make sure to talk to her before she could kill him, and then... then...

“Togami-kun?”

Byakuya looked up from the book he had been staring at. Touko’s face greeted him from where she sat beside him at a desk in the library. As his mind returned to the present, other details filled the library. The tray with two cups, one half-full, and his, barely sipped. The poor lighting that tainted everyone and everything outside the scope of the reading lamp, obscuring the titles on spines of books too far away. The crease in Touko’s brow as she studied him.

“Hm?” he went lightly.

In one cycle, she started calling him Byakuya-sama. Since then, she had been calling him Togami-kun. It was like that never happened, like all their conversations about books, about old movies so abstract that the director got blacklisted for a period.

And like when she told him about her upbringing, or when he told her about some of his. They both collected antique dolls. Once, a boy asked her on a date, and she spent countless hours planning it, only for the guy to sneak out part way through because he had only gone because he had been dared to go on a date with her. And one time, he had found the almost dead body of his half-sister at the end of the heir selection process, tortured by two siblings, violated by another, and that had just been another confirmation that he could not trust anyone, not even those related by blood.

But she knew that already.

All those conversations did happen... just to him.

“You looked like you were zoning out,” Touko said. She tilted her head to one side. “Are you feeling alright? If you’re sick, I can help you to your room... be your nurse... and even t-take care of you...”

With that last remark, the ends of her lips curled, and she pressed the tips of her index fingers together. The beginnings of a daydream glossed over her eyes.

“Absolutely not,” he said with a shudder, imagining her feeling his forehead while he lay paralysed on his bed. "If anything, it’s your stench that’s making me feel sick.”

“Ah!” Touko’s hands flew to her chest. “If you wish... I c-could go shower...!”

Byakuya hesitated. Each word had to be careful. If this had been one of the first few cycles, he would have demanded she leave the library in no uncertain terms. He would have snapped, and she would have left. And that would have been that.

“The library is masking most of it,” he said, which was true. Or maybe he had just got used to her smell by now. “I was wondering something. Have you ever considered writing something that wasn’t romance?”

Touko shifted.

“I mean... j-just because I write romance, that doesn’t mean it’s all romance,” she told him, sobering up. “In my novels, there are also other elements... but also, I’ve started work on an I-Novel.”

He already knew what an I-Novel was. It was a literary genre that referred to a biographical piece of literature, akin to a confession, about the author’s life. In its creation, the novels were intended to portray an honest view of the author’s life and society in general, dark in nature.

“Have you got it with you?” he asked. She shook her head.

“Not on my person, but it’s in my room... I haven’t finished it yet. M-My teacher once suggested I try writing about my life, but it’s hard to get motivated.”

He nodded and studied her as she drank some tea, as her other hand curled its fingers inward to scratch at her palm. Stray hairs had escaped her braids, as they tended to do when it came to her, and he tipped his head to one side.

Braids suited her. Byakuya wondered for a moment what she would look like without them. Then he scolded himself for even asking himself that. Focus.

“Tell me,” he said, “when is the last time you showered?”

Colour blotted her face.

“I... um...”

That wasn’t an answer, but it answered his question.

“Do you not know how to shower?” he asked.

“I...” She seemed to cave in on herself, hunching her shoulders, mumbling into incoherency.

He glanced at her lap, at her fist and its knuckles that screamed white. Then he fixed his gaze on her face. Her eyes were averted away from him.

“Do you not like the image of your own body?” he asked her, not harshly, but not too soft either.

Touko swallowed and gave a small nod, but she didn’t speak. He thought this would be a better conversation to have later. It would make sense for her, later.

“Go wash yourself,” he said calmly. “If you’re clean... perhaps later, we can talk again.”

She peered at him with growing curiosity. Then she nodded again, and left, glancing over her shoulder once on the way out.

Like the other times, she visited him later, and he followed the script up to the point when she set her foot on a chair and hoisted up her skirt. On her left thigh were scars. Tally marks that he counted, that matched the number of victims in the casefile. 

Usually, he didn't look at them for this long, those marks on her thin, pale thigh. His lips parted and he held his breath as he brought a hand forward. He traced over one mark with his finger. She inhaled sharply. Tensed.

It broke him out of his trance. Byakuya snapped his hand back.

“Is this why you don’t bathe often?” he asked.

Touko’s lips contorted.

“It’s... a reason,” she admitted. “But not the first.”

“Did your house not have clean water?”

“It did,” she said. “But even if it didn’t... there are some things water can’t clean away, no matter how hard you claw at your skin.”

Byakuya stared at her scars some more before looking up. Her gaze teetered on her face. Flickering like a faulty light.

“Do you know what those things are?” he asked. “Or does your alter know?”

“I...” Touko’s body quaked, and she rubbed her knuckles roughly across her eyes as she turned her head away. “I can’t... s-say... Sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry... T-Togami-kun...”

She was crying. He glimpsed tears glistening in her eyes. Usually, Byakuya would think that a display of emotion like this was weakness. It showed that a breaking point had been reached. But as he studied her, he realised something. This pain she carried, this secret, her life, she had done so for years, as it clung to her, dug its claws in, but here she stood. For a lot of other people, they would have fallen to their knees long ago. Long before this point.

He swallowed. Felt it vibrate through him. Didn't know if he had met anyone else as strong as this.

“I see,” he murmured, then he raised his voice slightly. “Listen... I can’t solve your problems. That is something, if it’s to be done, you have to do. You gain meaning in life through personal growth. The journey may be long, but if you’re not putting one foot in front of the other, you’ll always stay where you are.”

Touko listened, and her lack of response made him wonder if she could hear him. Then, she met his eyes, and she almost smiled.

“Togami-kun...” She faced him properly. “Byakuya-sama...”

Byakuya stared back. Touko leaned in, and he did too. He could see the groves in her lips. The wet streams on her cheeks. The small mole on her chin. And he could smell her must. Her sickly breath. He could feel it too.

His stomach plummeted and he straightened, feeling a bit light-headed. Must have been the lack of ventilation. The time of night.

“I will keep a check on your progress,” he said briskly, adjusting his glasses. “Now, if that’s all...”

Later, when he held his envelope, peering at her from across the gymnasium, he almost didn’t reveal her secret to everyone. He still did though.

* * *

The door to the library ripped open. Moments later, the slender frame of Genocider Syo crept in, her head stooped down like a snake as it eyed its prey, ready to strike. No one sat at any of the desks, despite the fact that a lamp was plugged in via a chain of extension cords and it was switched on. Its glow resembled the Moon on a cloudy night.

Syo took a few more steps forward, swaying, with shadows smeared across her face.

In the backroom, peering in through a small gap, Byakuya gripped the door, ready to slam it shut at the slightest of movements.

This was the woman who had avoided the police for years.

No. Not exactly. Her alter also evaded them too. Touko deserved credit as well.

“I know you’re in here,” Syo said as her voice rumbled through the library. She lifted her head, her tongue hanging out her mouth.

Byakuya swore he saw her eyes glint like rubies.

“Come out, come out!” Syo crooned, tilting her head all the way back. “I can smell your sex pheromones... It whiffs of fear and arousal.”

Seconds passed. Nothing happened. She lurched her head forward. Her neck cracked. He winced.

“My heart’s hurting real bad,” she said. “You must have hurt Gloomy... and if you do that, I get so turned on!”

“Why?” asked Byakuya.

Syo tensed. She turned toward his door. A chill tumbled across Byakuya’s skin, tingling afterwards, and he shut it loudly. Pressed his whole weight against it. Fortunately, the door opened toward him, so Syo would have to overpower him in order to reach him. And as mentally strong as she seemed to be, physically she ranked very low in their class. Only Chihiro would have been weaker than her.

With his head against the door, he heard her rush at it. Heard the flurry of her footfalls in her stampede. The door shuddered as she struck it with her fist. His breathing hitched. He swallowed. Shook.

Was this fear?

“Don’t tell me you’re shy,” she drawled. Her nails howled as she dragged them down the door. “Come on... Let me see your wickle face that I could just pinch until it became confetti.”

“I know who you are,” he said, barely hearing himself over his heartbeat. “You’re Genocider Syo.”

She breathed heavily. Didn’t speak.

“How did you know I was here?” he asked.

“A birdie told me. Gave me directions,” she said.

Byakuya’s brow scrunched. “Who? Who told you?”

She burst out laughing. It groped at his brain like nails down a chalkboard. 

“Hell if I know! The goth girl.”

Celes. The scraping resumed.

“Open the door,” she whined. She punched the door again, then over and over again. “Let’s play. You like playing, don’tcha? I wanna play a game with you. I wanna...”

Syo gagged, cutting herself off. He shifted, and his legs gave out as he overbalanced. His world went black as he toppled over, but he didn’t think he ever landed. 

Yet, he didn’t think he stopped falling either. As he opened his eyes, in his bed, with the shadow of Touko’s face drawn onto his ceiling, he felt like he was still falling.

* * *

There was nothing he could do to persuade Celes to not tell Syo about his whereabouts, and even with his indefinite number of cycles left, he didn’t bother trying to convince her. Though he hadn’t seemed to have died, something happened that meant he lost consciousness and restarted the cycle regardless. In his room, or in the library, it didn’t matter. Byakuya wondered if there was a time limit. If something had to happen before that time or else the cycle would loop back to the start.

When Touko told Byakuya that The Inugami Clan was a pulp novel requiring one’s suspension of disbelief, she hadn’t been exaggerating. The novel began with the death of a tycoon, whose will was left in the hands of the granddaughter of a head priest, a man he had been intimately close with. His fortune would go to whoever the head priest’s granddaughter chose to marry, and she had to choose a son of one of the tycoon’s consorts.

Only, someone murdered one of the sons. Then another. Several people died, one every few chapters. Everyone had a motive to kill, and it was up to the detective to unbury the metaphorical skeletons in the family’s garden before it was too late. The detective was a blithering man who reminded Byakuya of Yasuhiro, only the detective at least had noteworthy deduction skills.

Byakuya watched Touko as she crossed the library, holding a tray of drinks.

“The Inugami Clan?” she remarked, seeing the book resting in front of him. “I see you’re still reading detective novels.”

“I am,” he said. He couldn’t tell her that she recommended it to him. That he had already finished it. That they had already spoken about it to each other. Touko didn’t know any of that.

She set down the tray. Byakuya waved at the chair next to him.

“Take a seat, Fukawa,” he said, making her twitch.

“R-Really...?” she said, blushing. “Can you say it again?”

He pointed at the chair. “Sit.”

Not pushing her luck, or more specifically, his patience, she seated herself. Byakuya pushed up his glasses, then returned his hand to the book. 

“It was an entertaining enough read,” he said. “I don’t suppose you’ve read it.”

“I have!” she told him, nearly jumping off her seat. “I’m surprised you’ve read it, actually. I would have thought you would have considered it too ridiculous. The murders are over the top, so it is unlikely you would risk doing something similar when you...”

She stopped. Sank back into her seat.

“... kill someone,” he finished for her.

Touko grimaced.

“R-Right. That.”

Byakuya broke eye contact as he grabbed his cup. After he sipped from it, he put the cup back on his saucer and noticed she was still leering him. He pulled a face for a flicker of a beat before smoothing over his features, with only a furrow in his brow blemishing his mask. She tensed, but she didn’t look away, waiting for him to speak like he seemed about to do.

“So...” Byakuya could still taste his coffee’s nutty flavour on his tongue. “... you thought I would find this book too ridiculous?”

Yet in a cycle, she had been the one to recommend it to him. Even now, there were times when it was jarring to return to a cycle and find progress had been undone. She fidgeted.

“Admittedly... y-yes. I mean, you’re a no nonsense guy, aren’t you? I would assume you’d find it too beneath you.”

“I am a realistic person,” he said. “But just because something may seem impossible to you, that doesn’t mean it is.”

Byakuya glanced into his cup and gave it a small shake. Ripples puffed across the liquid, but the wrinkles in its surface soon disappeared. He fixed his gaze back on her.

“You know,” he said, “as an heir to a conglomerate such as mine, one does see a lot of things that no normal person could even conceive of being possible.”

She regarded him seriously.

“I thought so,” she said.

“You did?”

“I mean, you’re so sure of yourself... and you mentioned how any of us could poison your food,” she said. A smile seeped onto her face. Her eyes didn’t gleam but reminded him of beetles. “Someone in line to receive headship of the conglomerate is sure to have a lot of enemies.”

He didn’t like how she had used ‘receive’. That sounded so passive. They had been through this, not just once, but several times now.

“I do have a lot of enemies,” he said. “Not just you lot, but outside as well...”

And as on those other occasions, he told her about how he had needed to earn the right to be the sole heir. How he had needed to survive. Her features contorted and slackened at all the expected points. Touko lifted her head when he mentioned the creation of his siblings, in clinics, with his father donating sperm to high quality women. She nodded at the rounds in the competition that whittled away half-siblings until only a few were left.

“... the last round,” said Byakuya, “wasn’t supposed to leave anyone dead. The losers would be exiled, like all those before them. Whoever solved all the riddles and completed all the challenges first would become heir. However, Togami-sama’s biggest fault is that he struggles to realise that not everyone thinks like him. Within a few weeks, one person was murdered. Then another. It escalated rapidly. A detective was called in, but by the end, only two siblings were left alive.”

“Togami-sama?” she said.

Of all the things to pick up on, that was relatively minor. 

He hummed. “Hm?”

“You called your father Togami-sama.”

“That’s our arrangement, yes,” said Byakuya. She paused. Moved past it.

“One of them...?” she pressed on. “Those... survivors. They were...?”

“One was me.”

Silence. She scraped her teeth against her lips. Squirmed in her seat.

“And the other?” she asked quietly.

“I made her my assistant,” said Byakuya. “She was almost dead. Two members of a set of triplets tortured her to near death, and another... her brother...”

Byakuya gritted his teeth. Remembered her torn, out-of-place clothes. The blood trickling down burnt skin and more blood. That vacant, dissociated stare beaming from her empty face. 

“T-That’s...” Touko understood. Didn’t need to say. She stared at him with a similar look on her face.

“Of course,” he added, “that’s just one part of my life. But you see, that’s why I know I’m superior to all of you, even other Super High School Level students. I’ve been through this before. I’ve reached a level of perfection only few can achieve. I had to.”

Yet without evidence, none of them would believe him about Syo. To them, he was just someone rich. Someone born into his position. That came first to them, before his intelligence, before his analytical mind and dispassionate approach.

Touko fidgeted. “Togami-kun... can I... ask something?”

“You just did. But go ahead.”

“Were you scared?”

He scoffed. 

“Of course not. I just said this was just one point in my life,” he reminded her. “I’ve dealt with assassination attempts, dealings with backstabbers, kidnappers... This didn’t faze me at all.”

“So how do you feel?”

Byakuya hesitated. “Huh?”

It was a stupid, ugly noise, but she had caught him off guard.

“About what?” he asked.

She pinched at the corner of her lips with her fingers. Let go soon after.

“About going through all that,” she explained.

“Are you asking if I was afraid?” he asked sharply, as a twinge of offense stung his chest.

“I... I mean... maybe not that. Didn’t it make you feel sad?”

“Sad?” he repeated blankly. No one had ever asked about how he felt. It hadn’t been important to anyone.

Touko tilted her head to one side. Her expression was pathetic. One of pity. But also one of understanding.

He hated it. He hated it a lot. He couldn’t bear to look at it.

“Enough about me,” he said. “I’m sure you have your own stories to tell too. Tell me... have you ever written an I-Novel?”

* * *

Byakuya needed several days to read the I-Novel and not a lot of buildup to ask for it. Touko required little prompting, handing it over with a tentative smile. Upon receiving it, he would retire to his room for the rest of the day, and he read it with only a break for when he was required to attend Monobear’s announcement in the gymnasium.

Had he been able to have his way, he would have finished it in one sitting.

**‘At the front of the house stood weather-worn plank fencing, pressing shoulders with their comrades-in-arms. When I returned home, whether it be from school, the library or the peacefulness of the local cemetery, their growth rings stared at me, millions of eyes trained on my small frame. They stood guard; at the same time, they both faced me and had their backs to me. For years, I wondered what they stood guard for. It certainly wasn’t for me.’**

Sometimes, Byakuya sat at the table in his room, one leg crossed over the other, back straight. Other times, he sat on his bed with his legs in front of him, one sprawled all the way out, another slightly tucked toward him. Occasionally, he would wet his thumb and finger, riding his digits across dry lips to aid him in turning the page. Touko had handwritten her I-Novel on lined paper that left a musty smell on his fingers, which he would breathe in whenever he moistened them.

In this day and age of technology, writing on a computer was more convenient. One could fix spelling mistakes, tweak the wording and add in more detail at a later date. The sheets of paper in his care had tight writing packed into them, crossed out words and arrows connecting later additions to previously written sections. Yet, the lack of polish didn’t put him off.

Not at all.

**‘Imagination is the most alive thing I know that isn’t alive. Plants require four basic elements to live and grow. They need carbon dioxide from the air, water to aid in photosynthesis and growth, nutrients like a human needs vitamins and sunlight for energy to form food and sugars. However, with imagination, you don’t need all those. I can be walking to school, and I can imagine. I can be sitting on a toilet seat lid, and I can imagine. I can be at my desk, I can be confined to a closet without food and I can be on my bed in the pitch black, and I can still imagine.’**

Growing up, Byakuya’s days were structured for him, whether it was during a period where he was homeschooled or whether he was attending an elite private school. Byakuya would rise early, eat what he was given, go to lessons, lessons, break for lunch, lessons then lessons. He would have free time later in which to study for more lessons, read or for hobbies. Things like vending machines and television and toys had no purpose. One time, as a child, he obtained a twig, an elastic band and a kitchen sponge, and for a time, he tried playing with them like the children in story books, twitching his fists as he held them and pretending they had voices, only, when his mother discovered the box under his bed, she had them thrown out and gave him an astronomy book to read instead.

**‘For a long time, I didn’t understand why my mothers hated me. Often, I would think I would know why. It was because I was ugly. It was because I was stupid. It was because I stammered and sometimes wet the bed. But as time passed and I grew older, I stumbled upon forks ahead of me that led to other answers. It was because they were jealous of me. My father gave me the attention they so craved. Played games with me they wanted him to play with them. Secret games. Games that only he could win and only I could lose.**

**Right now, I think it was because I was their shackle to him. I was their leash. If they knew who I was biologically related to, then one would be forced to stay with us and the other one would be forced too, because she wouldn’t know what it was like to live in any other way. They couldn’t bear to know which one it was. They both wanted to hate me.’**

Byakuya was used to people attempting to get close to him. The reasoning always boiled down to one of few things. Prior to becoming the sole heir to the conglomerate, businessmen would trickle into his mansion to try to charm his stony-faced mother, offering him smiles and promises they hoped he would remember like everyone else they sidled up to. Had he not been so young and unlikely to win, he suspected he would have received more visitors.

There were other people too. Some tried to entice him with presents. Pretend they were friends. That he could trust him. A couple of times, when Pennyworth or security weren’t there, before Byakuya wised up, they managed to grab his attention. Coil around his neck. Once, he was in the trunk of a car for twelve hours. Another time, he woke up tied to a chair in a dark room with the taste of bitter tea in his mouth. And on a different occasion, he put on a private concert for a friend of his father’s in a guest bedroom, and from all of those times, Byakuya learned about the world.

He preferred it when people didn’t play games with him.

**‘Happy people can only write about a shallow world. It is the downtrodden, the outcasts, that can see the world for what it is, and only they can visualise an ideal world. A skilled writer sees beauty in ugliness, and ugliness in beauty. A lion devouring its prey... a supermodel with limbs as thin as her puppet strings... the human mind... Ugliness and beauty are not opposites, but aspects of a single thing.’**

Before Byakuya attended Hope’s Peak, he read about Syo, but he also brushed past Touko. Once, she wrote a best-selling novel called So Lingers The Ocean, and because of it, the popularity of fishermen with young women soared. Touko painted impossibly blue skies, soaked her prose with sea water that manifested in real life and made seagulls echo melodies in her readers’ ears, and they all fell under her spell. Another time, she wrote a novel called Black And White And Inbetween, about an heiress who fell in love with her butler, and Byakuya remembered the looks his butler would get on their errands, the letters that would spit into Pennyworth’s lap on a regular basis. Byakuya had seen firsthand the power of her words. 

With her mind, she could create a spell that could make society do whatever she wanted. She could make anyone fall in love with anyone.

**‘Some fear what the darkness hides, but for some, that is where we hide. From my nook, I see blond cresses, slender fingers and eyes alive and blue. But where there is light, there must be shadow, so where there is me, there must be her.’**

As he reached the last page, his chest heavy and hairs standing on end, he realised she really could make anyone fall in love with anyone.


	5. V

All these time loops were getting to his head. Making him think things he wouldn’t otherwise think. Someone in line to become head of the Togami Conglomerate shouldn’t have been fantasising about the things he did. Dirty things, like holding another person’s hand for reasons not involving business handshakes, or even worse - like sitting close to someone and kissing them. Just the idea made him shudder. He had never kissed anyone before. Never wanted to. The head of the conglomerate married the parent of whoever won, and that was just for formalities. Togamis never dated. Never indulged in public or private shows of affection. Togamis never wanted to.

And he was a Togami, so he shouldn’t have wanted to either.

Byakuya had a book open in front of him, one of Touko’s recommendations, but the words may as well have been hieroglyphs for all the sense they made to him. He would read a sentence twice and not understand it, or he would reach the end of a paragraph and realise he couldn’t remember what it was the text had actually said. 

It was like his head was filled with cotton and cushioned in it was a young woman with twin braids and a grin he couldn’t wipe off. Resting his head in his hand, he gritted his teeth, staring down so hard that his eyes felt like they were about to catch fire.

When the library door finally creaked open, the heat in his eyes intensified.

This couldn’t go on.

Shuffling footsteps teased his hearing. He steeled himself. He needed to get this out of his system. Satisfy this curiosity, this craving, before he was driven mad. Afterwards, he would be over it, and he wouldn’t have to dwell on it anymore.

“He’s here... Ahaha... He’s really here,” mumbled Touko, out of sight. She added sharply, “Well, Naegi, start talking to him.”

Byakuya let a few seconds pass.

“Oi. You,” he said in a controlled tone. He looked up, and Makoto cringed. Keeping his gaze on Makoto, Byakuya added, “You can go. Fukawa... you can stay.”

Makoto didn’t move right away.

“Now,” Byakuya snarled.

Like Byakuya’s breath was a gust of wind, Makoto jolted back. Byakuya continued glaring at him until Makoto retreated. As Makoto passed Touko, he gave her a worried glance, but Touko took little notice of it. She sauntered over, fiddling with her fingers, blushing an ugly shade of pink. A sigh escaped her.

“This is really happening,” she mumbled to herself, but he heard her. 

His chair screeched as he stood up. Touko approached. Got closer. She stared at him. Licked her lips.

“Togami-kun, do you remember those words you said to me? ‘You should become a woman who doesn’t control weak men but is controlled by a strong man’,” she said with a huge, revolting smile.

Byakuya didn’t answer. When she was close enough, he put a hand on her shoulder. She blinked and gave a start. Now, as she gazed at him, it was like she was really seeing him.

“Are... Are you okay?” she asked. “You look pale. And... And you’re sweating... Are you sick?”

Touko tried to wiggle free, but he didn’t let go of her shoulder. Byakuya lifted his other hand and tucked his fingers under her chin. A small gasp popped out of her.

“Yes, I am,” he said softly. 

He raised his hand off her shoulder, removed his glasses and put them in his shirt pocket. With the same hand, he reached for her glasses, shivering as his hand brushed against her cheek, and he felt her shudder too. Neither hardly breathed as he slipped her glasses off and put them onto the desk, or when he placed that hand against her cheek. 

For a moment, time seemed to stop, ceased to exist, until he squeezed her shoulder, tilted up her head and lowered his head as he pressed his lips against hers.

Byakuya had never kissed anyone before, and he couldn’t remember anyone ever kissing him. Not his mother. Certainly not his father. In fact, Byakuya could recall a home video he stumbled upon once, taken by Pennyworth, where Byakuya uttered his first word, ‘Papa’, only it hadn’t been to his father but the man who helped raise him. Pennyworth. 

Something fluttered in his chest. Byakuya didn’t recognise it. At first, they both stood still, but as soon as one of them shifted, Byakuya found himself unable to remain motionless even for a second. His hands glided, like passing through water, and the hand on her cheek buried into her hair, loosening her braids, and his other hand found its way to her waist. While the cotton in his head dissolved, leaving a puddle at his feet that he can’t uproot from, its absence left space to fill.

And Touko filled it, with her gentle moans behind her lips, vibrating against him, with her fingers that twitched and curled against him. Colours swirled around them, streaks of skin and hair tones, and the outside world disappeared. He had to stoop and she had crane her neck up in order for them to close that gap between them, and to close it more, Byakuya backed Touko into the desk. When she bumped into it, she sat down. Their lips parted for a moment.

They breathed. Then they pushed into each other again. This time, hungrier. Byakuya kept his mouth open as he kissed back. His top lip fitted between hers, and she bit down gently. He groaned. She wrapped her arms around her and he felt something warm and wet paw at his mouth.

Her tongue.

Byakuya hesitated, remembering how her tongue hung out of her mouth whenever Syo fronted, and that caused Touko to hesitate too, but he hardened his resolve, gave into the fire in his chest and pushed his tongue forward to greet hers. 

Touko gulped noisily and pulled him closer. He more than willingly pressed into her. Their tongues collapsed against each other, desperate, needy, alive, and he didn’t know whose mouth they were in. All he could taste was saliva. Hers. His. Theirs. Every nerve ending in him was set alight, and as he kissed her harder, he felt heat in his chest he had never experienced before. It didn’t prickle. It didn’t hurt. It didn’t burn. 

She panted and slipped a hand to his thigh. He let her.

The two of them were still entwined in each other’s arms when Makoto cried out. Like an invisible hand yanked him back, Byakuya tore himself away from her. Touko fell off the desk with a shriek.

“T-Togami-kun?” Makoto spluttered, almost as red as Touko. Byakuya couldn’t see himself, but judging by how his face blazed, he dared think Makoto was almost as red as him too.

“D-Didn’t your parents ever teach you to knock?” she sneered as she stood up, clutching herself.

“This is a library,” Makoto pointed out weakly, with a hand over his heart. “I... I didn’t know...”

Byakuya could just hear them over the pounding in his head. He budged hair from his eyes, fixed his collar and tie, and unable to meet the gazes of the other two, he marched to the door and didn’t look back.

That should have sorted everything. Should have got rid of that weight building in his chest. That curiosity. That fog in his brain. The spell she put on him.

Instead, it made it worse.

He didn’t go to the library that night, but that didn’t stop his doorbell from ringing a bit before Monobear’s announcement. 

When he heard it, he was seated on the end of his bed with his fingers laced in his hair. It passed his mind to ignore the sound because the person on the other side of the door could only be Touko, here to tell him about her alter. Dwelling on it more, he didn’t think that would make a difference. Syo would still be aware that he told everyone about her secret. Touko would still feel betrayed that he hadn’t kept it secret.

And he had to tell everyone about it. As soon as possible. Before Syo murdered anyone. She didn’t seem to understand or care about the consequences. Or perhaps she was sure of herself, it didn’t matter to her. After all, she had already got away with it so many times.

“Ehhh, this is a school announcement. It will soon be Night Time,” crackled Monobear’s voice. “Before that, all students are required to attend a gathering at the school’s gymnasium. Emergency! Emergency!”

Byakuya remained seated.

After a few minutes, Monobear materialised in front of the bed, its paws on its hips.

“Hey, what’s the hold up?” asked Monobear.

“I’m not going,” he said in a dull tone.

Monobear twitched. “What?”

“I said I’m not going,” he snapped, louder, and Monobear put its paws on its stomach.

“Oh, I thought you said that!” replied Monobear brightly. “That’s alright then. Maybe we’ll talk again tomorrow? Take care!”

It disappeared.

He stared forward in silence. Monobear reappeared.

“Wow, your cool shoujo looks almost fooled me for a moment,” said Monobear. Its voice harshened and it waved its fists. “Attendance is compulsory! Even for you!”

The only thing almost as mortifying as being caught making out with someone was when Monobear had to physically frogmarch Byakuya from his dorm to the gymnasium. As they stepped out of his room, he saw Touko at the edge of his vision, but he didn’t turn his head any way toward her. 

That night, in the library, Byakuya let Syo kill him.

* * *

After he woke up and saw Touko again, acting like nothing happened, he realised he could give into temptation as much as he wanted for the first time in his life.

He told himself he could indulge in this until he was satisfied. Until he got over it. That feeling.

Only, it didn’t go away.

As he stood in the shower, he thought back to what Touko once said to him. There are some things water can’t clean away, no matter how hard you claw at your skin.

* * *

Byakuya opened his eyes and kicked out his legs, floating in a colourless void that seemed to stretch on forever with nothing at the end. The longer he peered into its emptiness, the more he felt himself being pulled in that direction, so he turned his head away. Only, that meant he was just pulled another way, so he shut his eyes, and endless darkness surrounded him behind his eyelids. Cloaked him.

“Togami-kun...”

He looked.

Touko smiled at him. Byakuya stared back at her. She reached both her hands forward and clasped one of his hands in hers. Her hands didn’t feel hot or cold, or anything. He squinted.

Then, from where their hands were connected, blood started to ooze out. It dribbled up his arm and up hers too, but she didn’t faint. Not so much of a flicker crossed her face. Byakuya noticed now they were both naked, and he wasn’t certain if they always had been. The lines of blood travelling up their arms sometimes split, sometimes reconnected, as they crawled toward their shoulders.

Blood wept from her eyes, and feeling something creeping underneath his skin, he opened his mouth. He woke up.

There was darkness. There was silence.

Byakuya hadn’t dreamed for a long time.

Since the first cycle, he hadn’t had a single dream, but now he realised there was something he hadn’t tried yet. Something he considered but had chosen not to do until now.

* * *

The door to the library creaked open. Moments later, the slender frame of Touko Fukawa crept in, her head stooped down like a kitten taking its first paces in a new home. No one sat at any of the desks, despite the fact that a lamp was plugged in via a chain of extension cords and it was switched on. Its glow resembled the Moon on a cloudy night.

Touko took a few more steps forward, trembling, with shadows smeared across her face.

In the backroom, peering in through a small gap, Byakuya gripped the door. His other hand grasped a kitchen knife.

“Togami-kun?” Touko called out. She surveyed the library, hunched her shoulders and continued forward, hugging herself. 

Her eyes glinted like amethysts.

“I got your note,” she said, and she reached into her blouse pocket to take it out. “So... I’m here! I’m here, Togami-kun!”

Byakuya waited for her to look around some more. Waited until her back was turned. Then he slipped out of the backroom with muted footsteps, raising the knife higher as he approached. Closer and closer.

He was close enough to stab her now.

All he had to do was swing it forward. Swing it down. Once he did, the time loop might end. By now, he had done almost everything. Everything he could think of doing.

When she died, he would be free.

As soon as he killed her, he would be free.

Yet, as he stood there, and she stood there, he hesitated.

Touko turned around.

Her eyes widened. She backed away slowly.

“T-Togami-kun?” she whimpered, bringing her hands to her cheeks.

This would have been easier if she wasn’t facing him. No, he could still do this. It wouldn’t make a difference.

His footsteps knocked curtly. Hers were a long, wavering drag.

“Togami-kun,” she said, lips quivering. Body quivering. “Togami-kun!”

Byakuya thrust his hand forward, but not the hand wielding a knife. He pushed his empty hand against her shoulder, shoving her to the floor. 

Touko let out a cry as the back of her head thudded against the ground. The sound clogged her throat and cut off abruptly as he swooped down, straddling her fallen form. She stared up at him, chest heaving, and he stared down at her, holding the knife above their heads, its blade pointed at her heart. 

With every ragged breath that wracked through his body, his knife bobbed up, then down, like a buoy as a storm brewed. He bared his teeth and waited for the knife to descend. To pierce her. To make her gargle in her own blood. For this fucked up joke to end.

She maintained eye contact. Her glasses had fallen askew. Then she had the audacity to close her eyes.

The least she could do was try to fight him off. That way, it wouldn’t have been so easy for him, and he would have had a reason not to have killed her yet. If she just struggled or something, he wouldn’t be looming over her with a knife but not doing anything. He had planned this. He had prepared for this.

“Togami-kun,” she breathed, and her eyes fluttered open.

Byakuya stiffened. Touko gripped his arm. She pulled on him and he lowered his arm with no resistance. Keeping her fingers curled around him, with her other hand she didn’t take the knife from him but instead dragged up his sleeve, revealing a row of tally marks on his wrist.

And another.

And another.

Some of them must have been showing slightly. Touko’s lips puckered as she continued uncovering more. She couldn’t go any higher than just short of his elbow because his jacket and shirt refused to budge any higher, but she had drawn his sleeve high enough to display skin covered in tally marks all the way up, as high as she could see. Her brow furrowed, and she fought to tear her gaze away from them and look at his face instead.

Whatever she saw made her flinch. Made her breath catch. The knife in his hand clanked against the floor. Touko grabbed him by his arms and tugged.

Their lips crashed together. All their other kisses had been precise. Byakuya spent many days mulling them over. Studying her lips. Gauging the length of her neck when outstretched and her hands with their stubby fingernails. But as the two of them kissed now, with him on top of her on a dusty floor, this kiss was sloppy. It was wet. Wetter than the others. Initially, their glasses bumped together, so he flung them away, not caring where and how they landed. Her arms enveloped him in an embrace unfamiliar to him outside of these loops. It was warm. It was intimate. It made his heart beat faster.

A hug.

Byakuya ground against her, rubbing up between her legs, and she groaned into him, reciplocating with equally needy lurches. The friction shot sparks through his otherwise numb body, flickering in his chest, in his extremities, in his crotch. As one firework in him died out, another supplanted it, brighter than before. Tension built in his crotch that she fed into, with her muffled noises and how she thrashed, how she lapped at him.

His body was aflame.

He elevated his head. When he got too high, the bridge of saliva connecting their mouths collapsed.

Touko panted, gazing up at him with eyes dilated with arousal.

“D-Don’t wake me up,” she murmured with a bead of drool in the corner of her lips. Her eyes were glazed over. Not quite seeing him.

Of course. Touko didn’t know him as she did in other loops. She didn’t retain her memories, not like he did. Byakuya’s presence didn’t have a chance to grow on her. Ensnare her. Not as she did with him.

His stomach knotted. Averting his eyes, he spotted the knife.

He snatched it off the ground. 

She blinked. Her eyes bulged, and she couldn’t talk, couldn’t move, as he took aim.

Byakuya adjusted his grip, scrunched his eyes shut and thrust the knife.

Touko screamed. He heard the splatter of blood.

A sob gave a pathetic punch at the back of his teeth and he fell off her sideways, and due to how he landed, the knife embedded into him deeper.

* * *

For a moment, he thought the dream had come true, only he was the one with blood pouring from his eyes.

But in his bed, when he felt his cheeks, he found the liquid was clear.

* * *

“Gee, Togami-kun, you look terrible.”

Byakuya continued staring up at the ceiling, refusing to give Monobear the satisfaction of his acknowledgement. Monobear shouldn’t have even been in his dorm. It was too early. Despite the lack of response, Monobear clambered onto the bed and seated itself at his feet. Even if Byakuya wanted to, he couldn’t kick it off. He remembered what happened to Junko when she set a foot down on the robotic bear. 

“Tell you what,” said Monobear. “If someone dies, I’ll give you bastards access to an infirmary so you can get the medication you need. Though... with a sad face like that, maybe I should open up the morgue for you?”

Monobear cackled. Byakuya narrowed his eyes. Still wouldn’t answer though.

“What? Did you not get much sleep last night?” asked Monobear, feigning concern. “I don’t want to have to review footage of your dorm last night, but as your headmaster, I might just have to!”

“What do you want?” Byakuya asked, his eyes still trained on the ceiling.

“So you can talk!” Monobear exclaimed. “Aw, that means we’ll get to hear more of your funny quips after all!”

Byakuya pressed his lips together tighter. When he tested Monobear many, many cycles ago, Monobear had given no indication it was aware of what was happening to him. What he had been going through. Still was going through. He chanced a look at Monobear and its infuriating poker face.

“As funny as it is to see you break down and mope - ” Monobear started, but that string of words prompted Byakuya to shoot into an upright sitting position. It flailed its arms in surprise.

“I am not moping,” snapped Byakuya. “And I’m not broken.”

“Wow, what a complete turnaround!” went Monobear. It ran its paw up its arm. “I was worried you were gonna start going off the deep end. Y’know, saying things like you actually met everyone here two years ago or your whole family was wiped out. That sort of this would have been pretty troublesome... You wouldn’t have lasted much longer saying things like that, but you recovered miraculously! I’m getting bearbumps just hearing you!”

It rubbed its arm more vigorously.

“Stop that,” said Byakuya. “Also, you’re overdoing it. We know you’re a bear, and humans don’t have humanbumps.”

Monobear hung its head, letting its arms dangle either side of it.

“You really are back to your normal self,” said Monobear glumly. “You’re a tough nut to crack.”

Byakuya grabbed his glasses, which had been lying on the bed near him, and put them on. Meanwhile, Monobear remained by his feet, studying him with its head cocked to one side.

“Upupupu...” It placed its paws over its mouth. “That just makes it more fun. You’re a funny one, ain’t ya?”

Mostly to shake off Monobear, Byakuya heaved himself out of bed and got dressed. As he buttoned up his shirt, he pointedly looked away from the marks that covered his arm, which had reached and started to develop on his shoulder. After he was dressed, he turned around, and to his approval, he noticed Monobear had exited the room at some point.

He was beginning to seriously consider that he had died and wound up in a personal hell. No matter what he did, he ended up having to try again. Each time he woke up, he had failed. Hadn’t been good enough. 

It was like he was a character in a story, who had to do everything the way the narrative wanted him to. Only, he wasn’t a character in a story. He was a real person, able to make his own choices even if they seemed to be the wrong ones, at least to some other entity of higher power.

Regardless of what it was, it was still Hell.

Later, Touko and Makoto visited him in the library, and Byakuya couldn’t bear to humour either of them. Byakuya couldn’t even look at Touko’s face for long without his insides twisting. That night, the door creaked as Touko entered, and he listened largely in silence as she monologued her life to him, with him contributing the occasional nod or grunt.

“With your help... I can try to keep her inside,” Touko said. She edged closer to him. “If I can’t abolish her, I can at least stop her. If I can... be with you... I can stop her. You can give me the strength to stop her. I just need you to promise me you won’t tell... and that you’ll help me.”

Byakuya raised a hand. Touko faltered.

“When you say I can give you the strength to stop her,” he said, “where exactly is this strength coming from? What would my presence do for you?”

He didn’t think he needed to guess what her answer would be. She fidgeted.

“W-Well...” Touko said, blushing. A small smile pulled on her lips. “It... It would give me hope. I know we’ve only known each other for a short time, but when I see you... I feel hopeful. I feel a way... I’ve never felt about anyone before. Not so strongly. Not like this. If I’m with you, I’ll be mentally strong enough to restrain her, because I will have hope.”

That hadn’t been the exact answer he expected. “Is it because you love me?” he asked.

Touko shrieked and shielded herself with her arms, but she soon recovered, curling her shoulders forward and though she tried, she failed to suppress a grin. He grimaced.

“Who knows?” she said, poking her index fingers together. “Hope... L-Love...”

She chuckled to herself. Byakuya looked down in thought. 

Perhaps all this time, he had been underestimating the potential, the power this ‘love’ had.

If he could trust her hope to be strong enough that he didn’t need to tell everyone as soon as they received the motive, neither of them would have to die. At least, not for the time being. After all, was it not her hope that helped her survive so far? Not just in the killing games, but throughout her childhood as well? Was it with stupidity, or was it love, hope, that she could stare up at him as he straddled her with a knife? Was it weakness that he couldn’t bring himself to kill her, or was is strength that made him resist doing so?

Byakuya gazed at Touko, who was beautiful, ugly, intelligent and foolish, an enigma, and he let that small space between them linger. He didn’t know what would happen if trusting her hope, her love, was what he was supposed to do. Syo might still want to kill him. The day might restart again, and if it didn’t restart, he didn’t know if he would remember these loops or not. If the marks on his body would vanish or if they would remain. But as she stood before him, eyes wide and patient, he thought it worth a try. 

Then, if the right opportunity to reveal her secret presented itself, he could take advantage of it at that time. And if things came together just right, after that, Touko wouldn’t have to hide away anymore. Not just him, but both of them would be safe. Syo wouldn’t kill if she knew she’d be caught, and everyone would always suspect her.

That settled it. When Monobear gave out their envelopes, he wouldn’t tell anyone.

With a small smile, he rested a hand on her shoulder and pecked her forehead.

He would do it tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you all enjoyed this <3

**Author's Note:**

> illustrated by the talented otomegrandma on tumblr <3


End file.
